Ashlyn's Radio

by Heather Doherty

  Her increasingly lustful thoughts were shattered as the radio sounded downstairs. Quite involuntarily, she screamed into her hand and bolted upright, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

  The tune! Again the same damn tune as before! She could barely make out the words, but dammit, she knew what they were! Without taking time to unzip her bag, Ashlyn scrambled out of it and was beside Rachel in a flash. She grabbed her by the shoulders. “Get up!” she yelled.

  Wide-eyed, Rachel startled awake. “What the he—”

  “We’ve got to get out of here! Quick, come with me to the kennels!”

  “Why? And why are you yelling?”

  Of course! Rachel wasn’t a Caverhill. She couldn’t realize she was yelling over the radio. She couldn’t hear it!

  “Rachel, the radio.”

  Rachel sat up straight, her face taut with excitement in the moonlight. “What about the radio?”

  “It’s playing!”

  “I can’t hear it.”

  “I can! And we have to get the hell out of here. Maudette said if the radio played, we were to run to the kennel office.”

  Rachel crawled out of her sleeping bag and left it on the floor as she raced out of the living room behind Ashlyn. But as the two entered the kitchen, instead of heading for the exit, Rachel pulled a sharp left and ran to the basement door.

  “What are you doing?” Panic filled Ashlyn’s voice. Despite her earlier resolve that she would listen to what the radio wanted to say, she wasn’t so sure that doing so with Rachel there was a good idea. Not with her friend having been so close to boarding the train the other night.

  “I’ve got to see this! I may not be able to hear it … but maybe I can see what’s going on.” Deftly in the dark, quickly, Rachel ran down the basement stairs.

  “Rachel, don’t!” Ashlyn’s warning was of no use. Ashlyn started down the stairs as Rachel turned on the light.

  The song. Ashlyn wanted to cover her ears as the song played, over and over….

  The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes

  When she comes

  The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes

  When she comes

  She’ll get on board the train, her life won’t be the same

  The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes.

  Trying to stay calm, trying to keep her breathing even as she stood at the bottom of the stairs, Ashlyn turned to Rachel.

  “They’re gone, Ash,” Rachel said.

  “What’s gone?”

  Rachel giggled. “My fingerprints!”

  Ashlyn nodded, and waited. But Rachel said nothing about the glowing radio dial. So even down here, inches from the radio, she couldn’t hear it in all its haunting glory. Apparently, she couldn’t feel the booming vibrations coming from the beastly thing either, as it played that damnable, damnable song!

  “You’re right,” Ashlyn tried to keep her voice even and low, suspected she was failing miserably. “Your prints are gone. Well, nothing else to see here. We’d better—”

  “What do you hear?”

  Ashlyn stood very still.

  “Tell me, Ash. What’s the radio saying?”

  Ashlyn hesitated too long to come out with a plausible lie. But the last thing she wanted to do was reveal those lyrics to the one who was undoubtedly the subject. But Rachel saw it — the look on her face as she mentally scrabbled for a way to evade the truth, to hide it from her friend.

  Rachel’s look grew cold. “You asked me to promise you. To trust you and now … and now you don’t trust me. Is that the way it works, Ashlyn Caverhill from Toronto? Trust is only a one-way street? Good enough to trick the witchy girl, but not real on your side, huh? Well, if that’s the way our friendship is, then I don’t want it. Thanks but no, thanks.” She started up the stairs. “Been a slice but—”

  Ashlyn stopped her with a hand on her arm. Not gently touching but clawing. Her heart sank like a stone. Because Rachel was right. She had to trust her. Sweet Jesus, she had to warn her.

  The lyrics started all over again as Ashlyn made her decision. In a voice that she knew was a whisper compared to the radio’s roar, she began. With a tentative voice, she started to sing along with that evil radio:

  The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes

  When she comes!

  The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes

  When she comes!

  She’ll get on board the train, her life won’t be the same

  The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes.

  She could practically feel the goosebumps growing on Rachel’s flesh. And see the terrifying delight in her friend’s eyes when Rachel said, “It’s me. The conductor’s waiting for me. That song has to be about me.”

  “You promised me, Rachel. You promised you wouldn’t get on that train.”

  After her own blip of hesitation, Rachel nodded. “I know I did. And I meant it.”

  “Now, can we get out of here?”

  “Yeah, we can.”

  Two at a time, the girls ascended the steps. They left the light on below — to hell with walking up in the dark. Then Ashlyn stopped them both dead in their tracks. For the song had ended once again, but instead of restarting with those unholy lyrics, Ashlyn heard different words from that sexy, seductive voice:

  And now, your local Prescott Junction news….

  Ashlyn gasped.

  Rachel’s eyes grew larger. “What?”

  “It’s the news.”

  In unspoken resolve, both girls sat down on the steps.

  “You have to tell me everything,” Rachel whispered, Ashlyn reading her lips more than hearing her words.

  Ashlyn knew she did. She only hoped she wouldn’t regret it, like Maudette did with Polly. And as the newscaster gave the local news, word for word right after him, Ashlyn repeated it to an awestruck Rachel.

  “A motor vehicle accident late Sunday night sent a local man to the hospital. Arch Riley lost control of his car and went into the ditch on Bomidon Road. While Riley was sent to the hospital as a precaution, he was released shortly thereafter into the custody of the Maine State Police. He was subsequently charged with a number of offenses, including assaulting a police officer at the scene of the accident, and driving under the influence.”

  Ashlyn’s eyes never left Rachel as she gave the ‘news’ of her father. She seemed neither concerned nor surprised, but clearly still fascinated. “Maybe they’ll lock him up for good.” There was hope in Rachel’s voice.

  The newscast continued, and again Ashlyn repeated out loud the folksy, yet somehow silky, words he spoke.

  “Our sympathies go out to Maudette Caverhill—”

  Ashlyn’s blood turned cold in her veins.

  “ —on the loss of her beloved Airedale, Lolly-Pup. The dog escaped from its improperly latched kennel late Saturday night when Mrs. Caverhill was at the Saco Dog Show, and got caught in one of Neil Pole’s traps. The poor dog bled to death.”

  Immediately, both Ashlyn and Rachel bolted upstairs, straight through the kitchen and out into the yard. It barely registered with Ashlyn that the radio silenced behind them.

  “Here, Lolly-Pup!” she called. “Come on good dog.”

  She couldn’t see her! The dog wasn’t in the fenced kennel and it wasn’t like Lolly-Pup to not run out of her doghouse when Ashlyn called her name. Ashlyn ran to the gate. Oh, no! It was unlatched and swung wide with just a nudge of her hand.

  Rachel was at her side in a flash. “No sign of her! Oh crap!”

  Ashlyn felt sick, nauseous with grief. Her eyes filled with tears she didn’t even try to stop. If anything happened to that dog….

  Woof.

  Ashlyn turned toward the friendly bark. She could barely make out the shape of the dog over by the woods. Omigod, Lolly-Pup! And she didn’t look too inclined to head back inside the kennels, no matter how much Ashlyn coaxed.

  “Come h
ere, girl,” Ashlyn called. “Come on back over. That’s a good girl….”

  The dog didn’t move. She just stood at the edge of the woods. If she decided to bolt and explore, Ashlyn would have to go after her. For all the good it would do.

  “Hey, Lolly-Pup!” Rachel shouted. “Look what I’ve got.” Ashlyn turned to see Rachel holding the pup’s prize ball. While Ashlyn had been pleading with Lolly-Pup to come, Rachel had gone into the dog barn and retrieved this most-prized toy. In the lighted yard, she tossed it up and caught it a couple times. Lolly-Pup watched intently.

  “Fetch!” Rachel called. She threw the ball across the yard, close to the house. Lolly-Pup came racing across the field.

  “You should have thrown it into the kennels!” Ashlyn whispered.

  “She might not have fallen for that. Back up.”

  Ashlyn did. She backed up through the kennel gate with Rachel right beside her. Three throws later, and a few more steps, Rachel and Ashlyn were inside the kennel, and a happily chasing Lolly-Pup was too. Ashlyn fell on her knees and embraced the dog. “Dammit, Lolly-Pup, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Don’t ever do that again!”

  Lolly-Pup whined and licked her face. Ashlyn hugged her again, then went and found a new rawhide chew. “Here girl.”

  Lolly-Pup fell on it voraciously.

  The girls made their exit as the dog scooted into its house with its prize.

  Ashlyn locked the gate, properly this time. She checked the latch. Double-checked it. And Rachel did the same. Then she sank to the ground, not in a faint, but in relief. She drew a much-needed breath of the cool, fall air. Rachel sat down beside her.

  “Thanks, Rach,” she said. “If not for you, we might have lost Lolly-Pup.”

  “You mean, if not for the radio.” Rachel’s eyes were alive in the moonlight, intense with fascination, deep with contemplation. “Funny how it knows things. Things that may come to pass.”

  Ashlyn couldn’t stop shaking. Especially, as she looked at Rachel, so silent and lost in thought. A smile played upon Rachel’s face.

  And it struck terror into Ashlyn’s heart.

  Chapter 11

  “DON’T STAY OUT TOO late now, you hear?”

  They were half-way to the car when Maudette’s voice rang out behind them. Cringing, Ashlyn turned, ready to tell her grandmother to butt out, but Caden squeezed her hand. “I got this,” he murmured.

  Then he turned to Maudette and lifted his voice. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Caverhill. I’ll have her home by full dark. You have my word on it.”

  “Thank you, Caden,” she said. “I know I can count on you.”

  What? Like she couldn’t count on her own granddaughter? Ashlyn badly wanted to snark back at the old lady, but after getting busted last weekend for sneaking out, she really didn’t have much high ground to stand on.

  “Take care, Ashlyn,” Maudette called, then added, “Have a wonderful time, dear.”

  Dammit. How did she do that? She was better at this than Ashlyn’s own mother, Leslie. How could she be pissed off with her now?

  Ashlyn forced a smile. “We will. Thanks, Maudette.”

  Caden opened the passenger door of his father’s SUV for her. Clutching the skirt of her dress, she clambered up and in, and he shut the door behind her. By the time he circled the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s side, Ashlyn had her seatbelt on and was surveying the interior.

  “So, I guess this isn’t your basic Explorer.”

  Caden belted himself in and keyed the ignition. “Sorry.”

  “Dude, it’s a Beemer. You’re not supposed to apologize.”

  He laughed. “Don’t let my father catch you calling it a Beemer.”

  As if she’d have the chance. Caden didn’t seem too keen to parade her in front of his parents. Well, that was fine with her. Just peachy. “What?” She shot him a look. “He’d prefer marvel of German engineering perhaps?”

  He was reversing out of Maudette’s driveway, so she got a full frontal view of his grin as he backed out. “Hey, cut the man some slack. He’s not that uptight. It’s just that as a BMW automobile owner, he would feel compelled to point out that the term Beemer applies only to BMW motorcycles. When referring to a BMW car, it’s called a Bimmer.”

  “Bimmer?” Ashlyn snorted. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  He slid the car into gear and accelerated off. They were bound for Rachel’s to pick her up.

  “By the way….” Caden took his eyes off the road long enough to send her a glance. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  Ashlyn was torn. Part of her was melting. Part of her was … no check that. All of her was melting.

  It’s just that this dress, which had seemed so bucc back home, now gave rise to doubts. She’d bought it at Hot Topic in Detroit. In fact, she’d made the trip from Toronto especially to shop there. West 49 was nice, but it wasn’t the same. So here she was in a black pinstriped, mid-thigh garter dress and clunky boots, with her hair hot-ironed to within an inch of its life. But instead of enjoying it the way she had last time she’d worn this outfit, she’d been wondering whether she looked like a skanky ho. Especially since her escort wasn’t sporting any metal anywhere on his attire.

  But Caden thought she looked beautiful.

  She smiled. “You look pretty good yourself.”

  And oh, baby, he surely did! He wore a vintage blue velvet jacket, low rise dark trousers with a wide leather belt, and a white Oxford shirt. Less of the preppy this time, and more of a Lenny Kravitz funk. And nary a D-ring or grommet or skull stud in sight. Somehow, though, she didn’t miss them.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  Ashlyn chewed the inside of her lip. “So … the dog show thing … how was it?”

  “Oh, man, it was great! I got the best pictures. Next time I come over to work, I’ll bring my viewer. There were even some folks there who were interested in hiring me to shoot their dogs. After Maudette told them what a great job I did for her, that is.”

  “That’s great! Hey, maybe you’ll be to show dogs what Annie Leibovitz is to celebrities.”

  He grinned. “That’d be cool with me.”

  “And it wasn’t too weird, traveling with Maudette?”

  “No, not weird at all. She’s cool.”

  Ashlyn’s lips thinned. “Yeah, right. As long as you’re not related to her.”

  Caden shot her another glance. “You might want to cut your grandmother some slack,” he said, returning his gaze the road. “She’s got a lot to worry about, ya know? The radio, the train, your mom….”

  “Oh, God, you two talked.”

  “Not really. I mean, your grandmother certainly wasn’t looking for a confidante. But I don’t know … it just seems like she’s got a lot on her plate.” He shrugged. “I’m just saying, is all.”

  Of course he was. Because he cared about people. Cared about Maudette.

  “Caden?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Could you please pull over?”

  She felt him take his foot off the accelerator immediately. “What? Are you okay? Are you sick?”

  “Just pull over.”

  He obliged, bringing the Bimmer to a halt on the shoulder of the road.

  She hit her seatbelt release button, and the belt retracted with quiet precision. Then she leaned over, put a hand on his face — God help her, it was getting more dear to her with every day — and kissed him.

  When she pulled back long moments later, he let out a very satisfied sigh. “I’ll stop for that anytime.”

  She laughed.

  He touched a thumb to her lower lip. “Miss me?”

  She lowered her lids. “A little.”

  “Good. ’Cuz I missed you too. More than a little.” He leaned toward her and she caught her breath, but instead of kissing her, he reached around her and nabbed the seatbelt, which he pulled across her hips and snicked into place. “Now be good. We have to pick up Rachel and get to the dance.”

  Smili
ng, inside and out, Ashlyn sat there with her hands in her lap. Life was good.

  “Hey, did you hear about Rachel’s dad?”

  Her stomach cramped. “What about him?”

  “He put his car in the ditch. Wrecked it pretty good, I hear. But he’s okay. Well, physically, at least. Not doing so well in the legal department, though.”

  Holy crap! “DUI?” Ashlyn said.

  “Yep. Not to mention a little resisting arrest. And before you accuse me again of being plugged into the Prescott Junction grapevine, I actually just overheard it at the gas station when I stopped to gas up.” He took his eyes off the road a moment to glance at her quickly, then glanced away again. “Whoa, what’s the look for? Ashlyn, what’s going on?”

  “I knew that was going to happen.”

  “Yeah, you and the whole town, from what I heard. I gather it was just a matter of time.”

  Ashlyn felt her nails biting into her palms and realized that she’d squeezed her fingers into fists. Okay, time to tell him about the radio. And hope he didn’t think she was crazy. She relaxed her fingers, exhaled, drew a deep breath. “Yeah, but I really knew. I knew it was imminent, as opposed to all those other people who just figured it was bound to happen eventually. Rachel knew it, too. Well, maybe knew isn’t the right word. Maybe she didn’t really believe it. Hell, maybe I didn’t either. But I should have. I mean, look at Lolly-Pup. It was right about that. Why wouldn’t it be right about Rachel’s dad?”

  “Ashlyn?”

  “Yeah?” She glanced over at him.

  “What are you talking about? What do you mean by it? What was right about Lolly-Pup?”

  Her mouth felt suddenly dry. “The radio.” Then, so he didn’t have to pick at her with twenty questions, she went on. “In Maudette’s basement. There’s a big Henderson floor model radio that her mother bought during the Second World War. But it’s not a normal radio, Caden. It’s … supernatural. Or paranormal or whatever you want to call it.”

  “Omigod! It’s real! Catherine Brennan’s radio is real. It’s prescient, right?”