"I wish I had a job where I could help people."
"So how would you like to do that?" The question sounded a bit awkward, so she quickly added, "When you get on your feet?"
"Oh, I don't know." Weasel seemed to be pondering her question. "I wouldn't mind havin' me a job like Colonel Willis has."
"Why is that?"
"You remember when we was talkin' about The Family the other day and I told you how important they were to me because when I was a kid I never felt like I really had a family?"
"I remember." Stephanie turned into the driveway of the Helmsley estate.
"Well, people tend to look right through somebody like me, like I'm not even there. If a guy don't have no money or no fancy clothes it's like he's not worth nothin'. But then there are some special people, like Colonel Willis," Weasel paused, then added, "and you, Miss Stephanie. People who treat me like I'm a real person and not a bum. That's what I'd want to do. Run some kind of shelter and treat people with respect. It would make me feel real good havin' all those guys under my roof and knowin' that I might be makin' them feel like they're a somebody, not a nobody."
Stephanie stopped in front of the carriage house and turned off the engine. She gave Weasel's forearm a gentle squeeze. "I hope someday you'll get your chance. I really do." Weasel got out of the car and waited while Stephanie drove into the garage.
"What happened to your leg, Miss Stephanie?" Weasel asked when he saw that she was limping. "Did somebody hurt you? Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?"
"No, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Come on up." Stephanie led the way up the outer stairs to her apartment. As soon as she pushed open the door her charcoal-colored cat rushed to greet her. The animal had two jagged scars on its head, a torn ear, and a right eyeball that was permanently fixed toward the heavens. She picked it up and hugged it as it pawed her cheeks and licked her nose. "Weasel, meet Eye's Odd. Eye's Odd, Weasel. One morning I was running and saw him almost get hit by a car. He didn't have a collar and he looked like he was starving to death, so I brought him home. No one claimed him, so here he is. He's always waiting for me at the door when I come in."
Weasel reached out and scratched the cat's head. "He sure looks like he had it rough before he found you. Can I hold him?"
"If he'll let you." Eye's Odd wriggled a moment when Stephanie gave him to Weasel but calmed down and began to purr.
Weasel stepped inside and whistled. "Miss Stephanie, this is real nice." He gaped at the framed exhibit posters and the colored plumes in the art deco vases.
"Have a seat, Weasel. Make yourself at home."
"I don't think I should, Miss Stephanie," he replied. He cradled Eye's Odd as he brushed his fingers across the fuzzy velvet nap of the overstuffed sofa. "I might mess somethin' up."
"Nonsense. Sit down. What would you like to drink? I have wine, beer, Pepsi."
"A Pepsi sounds pretty good, if that's okay with you."
"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't okay."
Stephanie was on her way to the refrigerator when the telephone rang.
"Hello," she answered.
"Hey, baby, what's cookin'?"
"Randy?" Stephanie responded with a little surprise. "I thought tonight was your poker night."
"Nah, the game was called off. I left two messages at your office, but I take it you didn't get them...or did you?" His speech was slurred.
"I wasn't in the office all day. In fact, I just walked in the door." Her tone changed. "Have you been drinking?"
"Stephanie, I'm coming over."
"Randy, you can't. I'm swamped with work on this story. Even if I weren't, I'd be terrible company. I'm really exhausted."
"Baby, you won't have to do anything but lay back and enjoy."
Weasel set Eye's Odd down and stepped closer. "Miss Stephanie," he whispered, "if you've got somethin' else to do I can leave if you want me to."
Stephanie put the phone to her chest. "Shhh, it'll be okay."
"What was that?" Randy asked.
"What was what?"
"Who's there? Who're you talking to?"
"I told Eye's Odd to get off the counter."
"Well, what are we doing then?" Randy sounded impatient.
"I'm going to spend the night working...and I guess you're going to have to take a cold shower. I'll call you tomorrow because we have a few things we need to discuss."
"Let's talk now, baby. Let's talk about how good I'm going to make you feel."
"I mean it, Randy. The answer is no. I'll call you tomorrow." There was a crash of the receiver on the other end. Weasel looked at Stephanie as she hung up the phone. She smiled. "Some people just don't take bad news very well."
Stephanie got Weasel's Pepsi. "I'm going to open some wine, so why don't you go sit on the couch and make yourself comfortable. I'll be there in a minute and then we'll talk."
Weasel reached down and picked up Eye's Odd before heading out of the kitchen.
Stephanie poured herself a glass of Chardonnay and took a sip before going back into the living room to tell Weasel what she had done. Weasel had overcome his reluctance and was sitting on the couch with Eye's Odd on his lap. She sat down beside him.
"Weasel," she started, "this is going to be hard for me, so try to understand, okay?" Weasel nodded, studying her intently. "I like to think I'm a good reporter. When I cover a story I try to get as much information as I can. If I don't do everything possible to learn about my subject, I feel I'm cheating my readers. You can understand that, can't you?" Again Weasel nodded. "You wanted me to write a story about The Family," she said. "To write that story I have to find out all I can." As Stephanie paused, Weasel lowered his head and picked at a scab on the back of his hand. Stephanie wasn't sure how to go on. Weasel was the first to break the silence.
"You did it, didn't you?" He raised his head and looked at her. "You took the book."
"Yes I did, but I'll return it tomorrow. I promise."
Weasel's small frame sunk back into the overstuffed cushions. He swallowed, his Adam's apple moving up and down. "You can't do that, Miss Stephanie. You can't ever go back there. He'd be lookin' out now, and there's no tellin' what he'd do." Weasel handed Stephanie the Pepsi and said in a quiet voice, "I think I'll take that beer now."
When Stephanie returned with a Bud Light, Weasel's hand shook as he reached for it.
"Thanks. I'm not much of a drinker anymore but I can sure use this now."
Within a few seconds Weasel had downed more than half the contents of the can. He cupped his hand over his mouth, but not soon enough to suppress a loud, gurgling belch.
Stephanie spoke quickly to ease his embarrassment. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"
"No, Miss Stephanie. I couldn't ever be mad at you. I understand why you did it. I guess if I'd thought about it, I would have figured you'd end up gettin' it."
"If you don't think I should take it back to the cabin, could you return it?"
"No way, Miss Stephanie. If he ever finds out I had somethin' to do with it..."
"He won't, if you don't want him to."
Weasel smiled at her. "You know, it sure took a lot of guts for you to go back up there to Xeno's place."
"It was nothing." Stephanie laughed. "No, you're absolutely right. It did take a lot of guts. I was scared to death."
"If you don't mind me askin', where are you keepin' the book?"
"In my bedroom. I figure no one would find it there." Stephanie winked. "Say, I'm getting hungry. Let's order a pizza. Anything you don't like on it?"
"Just them little fish things."
Stephanie got up and phoned in the pizza order, then returned to the living room and sat in a chair across from Weasel. Outwardly, at least, he had taken the news much better than she had thought he would. She spent a few minutes telling him about how her watch had stopped at the cabin and how she was sure she would run into Xeno. It was in racing down the path, she explained to him, that she fell and injured her leg and shoulde
r.
"What do you think Xeno will do when he finds the book is missing?" she asked.
"I don't know, but I sure don't want to be around to find out. Xeno has a way of lookin' right in your eyes and knowin' just what you're thinkin'. I'll have to stay away from him for awhile."
"How do you get in touch with him?"
"Xeno does the gettin' in touch, whenever he feels like it."
"He doesn't actually live at the cabin, does he?"
"Uh...beats me. I never asked him."
"Why is it that Xeno's name isn't in the book? There's nothing at all in there about him."
"I didn't know it wasn't." Weasel scratched Eye's Odd behind the ears. "Might be because Xeno keeps the book and he's got no reason to write about himself."
"Weasel, would you do me a favor? Would you show me where Lonesome Lou is buried?"
"No way," he replied quickly, his voice rising. "There's no way I'd ever do that. It wouldn't do Lou any good now and it sure wouldn't do me any good, either. Next time I'd be diggin' my own grave in that park."
"That must be dinner," Stephanie said when she heard someone banging on the door. "I hope you're hungry." She got money from her purse and went to pay for the pizza.
"Randy!" she said with surprise upon opening the door. "What are you doing here?"
"You should know I don't give up so easy." He spotted the twenty in Stephanie's hand. "Oh baby, you don't have to pay me. For you it's on the house--or on the lawn, in the trees, anywhere you want to do it."
"You're disgusting," Stephanie said. "I thought I told you not to come over. You're going to have to leave."
"What the hell's the problem? Come on, let me in." When she refused, Randy yanked on the screen door several times until it sprang open. Stephanie stood in the doorway to block his entry. His breath was strong with the smell of liquor.
"Randy, I told you I was tired and had work to do." Stephanie heard footsteps on the stairs and saw the delivery boy coming up with the pizza. "Oh, great," she mumbled. As she moved to pay him, Randy squeezed past her.
"My, that's a big one," Randy said as Stephanie brought the pizza into the kitchen. "You knew I was coming after all, didn't you?" He lifted the lid of the box and, as he leaned over for a whiff, almost lost his balance.
"You're drunk! Get out of here! Now!"
"Ah, come on, baby, you don't want me to leave." He reached out and twirled a lock of her hair with his fingers. She pushed his arm away.
From the living room came a loud, rattling cough. Randy gave her a curious look and then turned to investigate, weaving as he walked. Stephanie grabbed his arm but he pulled free. She put the pizza on the counter and went after him.
"Well, well," Randy said when he got to the living room, "it looks like I've interrupted a little party." He looked at Weasel and then at Stephanie. "Don't tell me. You're doing a story on retarded leprechauns." He staggered to where Weasel sat and stood towering over him. "You're not much bigger than bugshit, are you buddy?" Randy laughed.
"M-M-Miss Stephanie," Weasel stammered, "I think I better go." He set his beer on the table and rose from the couch, still holding Eye's Odd.
"We wouldn't think of it, would we, Miss Stephanie?" mocked Randy with a sneer. "Anyway," he continued, "the party's just getting started."
Weasel's small, trembling body stood in sharp contrast to his tormentor's imposing muscular frame. Stephanie hoped that Randy wasn't so drunk he would hurt Weasel. She knew she had to get Randy out of there before he did something stupid.
"Come on." Stephanie put her arms on Randy's back and directed him toward the door. "I think you better sleep this one off in your car. Let me have your keys."
"You're not getting them. I can drive just fine. I got here, didn't I?"
Weasel had followed them. "Miss Stephanie, we can talk about the book some other time. I didn't mean to cause you--"
"You're staying, Weasel," Stephanie insisted. "We have work to do. Randy, get out!"
"Weasel? I liked bugshit better. You know, he's uglier than that damn cat of yours." Randy pulled away from Stephanie and turned around. His swagger to where Weasel stood might have been impressive had it not been for several mistakes in motor coordination. He stopped and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep his balance. "You're getting off on little guys now, huh?" Randy's eyes moved back and forth between Stephanie and Weasel. "Hey, Bugshit," he said, placing a hand on Weasel's bony shoulder, "this is probably going to be the best piece of ass you ever had. In fact," he leaned closer, "it'll probably be the only piece of ass you ever had."
Stephanie was already angry, but Randy's last remark made her furious. She walked him from the living room to the open entryway of the kitchen, just a few feet from the door. He wrested free, causing himself to again lose his balance. She grabbed his wrist and elbow and pushed him toward the door. He tripped over the threshold, knocking the door open, and rolled out onto the porch.
"You goddamn bitch!" Randy yelled. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and when he saw the blood he yelled again, "You goddamn bitch!" Stephanie lunged to pull the door shut but Randy blocked it with his leg.
"Weasel!" Stephanie shouted. "Call the police!" Randy was on his feet again. He slapped her and sent her sprawling to the floor. Weasel inched closer to the phone.
"What's the matter?" Randy stared down at Stephanie. "Didn't Daddy teach you how to fight?" Weasel reached for the phone and Randy looked at him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Bugshit."
"You can hurt me if you want to," Weasel said, his entire body quivering, "but you leave Miss Stephanie alone."
Randy stepped over Stephanie to get a closer look at Weasel. He backed him against the kitchen counter. "It's beyond me what she sees in you, Bugshit. Christ," he muttered, shaking his head. "You're not worth getting my hands dirty." Randy made his way back over Stephanie to
the door, then turned unsteadily and looked down. "I don't need you, you bitch," he snapped. "I hope you get pregnant." He slammed the screen door and stumbled down the steps.
"Are you okay, Miss Stephanie?" Weasel asked. He was breathing audibly as he helped her up.
"I think so. I'm really sorry, Weasel."
They both jumped when the phone rang. Stephanie spent the next ten minutes telling Jessie what had just happened. Her landlady had been awakened by the commotion and was afraid someone was breaking into Stephanie's apartment. She said she was about to call the police when she saw Randy's car driving away. She was just checking to make sure Stephanie was all right.
The pizza box lay unopened on the kitchen counter. Stephanie and Weasel were too drained by the confrontation with Randy to feel like doing any work. She was too tired to drive Weasel back to Severman House and she finally persuaded him to spend the night. She brought out a spare blanket and pillow and he curled up in a fetal position on the couch.
"Let's just try to forget about tonight," she said. "We'll start again in the morning, okay?"
Weasel gave her a weak smile and nodded. "Night, Miss Stephanie."
Eye's Odd jumped on the couch and laid down next to him. Stephanie watched as he put his arm around Eye's Odd and pulled him closer. She switched off the light.
"Good night, Weasel."
Chapter 10
Stephanie stirred in her sleep. She was in that transitional period between the unconsciousness of slumber and the awakening of awareness when dreams often reach their greatest intensity. A warm breeze swirled around her. She found herself walking through a park, wandering in darkness, but with a sense that a force was tugging at her, drawing her closer. Her mind held a ring of keys but there were no locks to open. People passed on either side and looked straight through her; her soul was but a shadow in the night. She was amazed that she felt no fear, even after she left the safety of the illuminated sidewalk and began walking among the trees. The clearness of the night soon gave way to a dense fog that seemed to erupt from the ground
in mushroom clouds. She walked on, unmindful of the chill and silence now encircling her. From somewhere in the distance she could hear a faint scraping. Her eyes strained to make out the glow of a lantern. Her heart began to pound and she felt the warm rush of blood beneath her skin. She stumbled and fell to the ground. Her limbs were like clay and she was unable to rise. She started to crawl toward the light that was glowing more brightly in front of her. Through the mist she saw a hooded figure standing in a shallow hole, a shovel in its hands. Nearby lay a bundle of clothing. The bundle took on the form of a body lying face down. She tried to stop herself, but she now had no control over her movements. She continued to crawl until she reached the lifeless form. With great effort she rose to her knees. She placed both her hands on the body and rolled it over. She found herself staring into the cold, dead eyes of Weasel. The frantic look on her face gave expression to her silent screams of horror. The hooded figure ignored her and went about its task. She reached for the lantern and held it high above her head. As it swayed in her hand, shadows performed a danse macabre on the dampened ground. The figure turned to her but the tightly-drawn hood concealed its features. It beckoned to her, silently urging her to do what she already knew she must. Now only inches away, she reached out and threw back the hood. This time her screams broke through, piercing the night. Randy Ebert stood before her, laughing maniacally.
"Miss Stephanie! Miss Stephanie! Wake up!"
Stephanie sat upright and they nearly bumped heads. "Weasel! Thank God you're alive!"
"Of course I'm alive. That must have been some bad dream you were havin', Miss Stephanie. I was out in the kitchen makin' us some breakfast 'cause I figured you'd be real tired this morning. All of a sudden you started yellin' and screamin' and you darn near scared the pants off me. I didn't know what was happenin' to you."
Stephanie was still in her nightgown. She pulled up the sheet to cover herself. "I'm fine now. Why don't you go turn on the TV and let me get dressed, then I'll come out and finish breakfast. Okay?"
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