Doorbells at Dusk

by Josh Malerman

  Adam had made his way back out to the party. But even his return couldn’t bring it back to life. Soon, Ashley and her crew picked up the empty plates and Halloween decorations. Most of the people left. Adam and two friends played with Adam’s new presents on the deck. One was a Captain America mask. Adam took a few seconds before trying it on. Many feet from them, Ashley was on hands and knees, scrubbing urine.

  Ronnie watched all this through the glass wall, seated at the kitchen island with Paula, Tiffany and a very drunk Ben Ornstein.

  “That was fucked up,” Ben said for the fourth time. He poured another vodka tonic. He’d spilled his last one on his flowered shirt.

  “Yeah, okay,” Ronnie said. “Enough. It’s exactly what he wanted, for us to be talking about him all day.”

  “Where’d he come from?” Paula asked.

  Ronnie shrugged. “Who the fuck knows? The lake?”

  They looked out the wall of windows, out to Ronnie’s dock.

  “He was ill,” Tiffany said, firing up a joint.

  “Ill?’ Ronnie asked.

  “Yeah . . . mental.”

  She took a deep drag and handed the joint to Ronnie.

  Ronnie watched Adam on the deck as he took a hit and passed it to Ben.

  The ceiling creaked then, the unmistakable sound of weight upon a second floor.

  They all looked up. But only Ronnie felt a chill.

  You’ve heard this sound before, buddy. When Adam’s not here. When you’ve got the house to yourself and all you wanna do is get outside. When all you wanna do is get stoned and drunk on the lake. When all you wanna do is–

  The girls started giggling. Then Ben did, too.

  “What?” Ronnie asked.

  “You look scared as a snake in a belt factory,” Ben said.

  Ronnie got up and looked outside. Scanned the yard, the dock, the water beneath the dock, his son.

  “Watch them a minute,” he said to Paula.

  “The kids?”

  But Ronnie was already stepping through a thick cloud of smoke as he left the kitchen and took the long stone hall to the foot of the stairs.

  “Ashley? You up there cleaning?”

  But Ashley was outside. He knew that. He’d seen her there.

  Ronnie looked once to the kitchen, saw Ben’s elbows on the island edge. Then Ronnie bounded up the stairs.

  “Someone up here?”

  He checked the master bedroom first. The bathrooms. The guest room. The closets.

  He saved Adam’s room for last.

  “Anybody up here?”

  He opened Adam’s door and entered. In the open closet he spotted older toys from Halloween birthdays past.

  He was stoned. Really stoned. A rare nostalgia crept over him. Adam as a baby. Adam’s first birthday. Now Adam on the weekends.

  He turned around. Looked to Adam’s bed.

  Adam was a good kid. A great kid. Made his bed all on his own whenever he slept over. Kept the room clean. Ronnie loved him.

  On top of the dresser he saw the pajamas Adam would wear to bed tonight. Blue and white striped cotton.

  He looked to Adam’s bed again.

  Adam!

  The red comforter was tucked tight under the mattress ends. Nothing hung over the edge, nothing hung to the floor.

  Ronnie knelt. Looked under the bed.

  He could see clean through to the wall. Nothing there.

  Getting up, he felt a rush of grey to his head. Stoned. He left Adam’s room, checked the bathroom, and hurried to the stairs. Halfway down he heard the stoned women. They’d gotten higher. Was Ben conked out on the table? Ronnie bet he was. At the bottom of the steps he ran his fingers over his arms and looked back up once more.

  Houses creaked. Who cared? He had two fine women giggling gibberish at the kitchen table.

  He went to them.

  “You girls wanna go on the water?”

  Ben was asleep, his forehead on the island.

  “Where’d you go?” Paula asked.

  “Upstairs.”

  “Why?”

  They were both laughing. It bothered Ronnie for a second. Were they laughing at him?

  “I was checking on spooky sounds, remember?”

  “Oh yeah!” It was like Ronnie had told them a very big secret. Ronnie didn’t like that. Didn’t want to think that checking his second floor was a big thing.

  He crossed the kitchen and opened the deck door.

  “Ashley?” he called.

  Ashley was still on her knees, removing the yellow rubber gloves now.

  “Yes?”

  “You mind watching the kids while we go for a spin?”

  “Of course.”

  Adam leapt up, tore of his Captain America mask.

  “I wanna come!”

  Ronnie smiled to humor him. He was about to say, Not this time kiddo. But he thought of the toys in Adam’s closet. Felt some of the nostalgia he’d felt upstairs.

  “Of course you can come.” Then, “It’s Halloween, for crying out loud. And you know what else it is?”

  Adam smiled but it looked like it took some effort. The way adults smile when they’re exhausted.

  “Can my friends come, too?”

  “Bring ‘em,” Paula said. “We’ll go tubing.”

  They headed down the grassy slope toward the dock. The same slope the stranger had stumbled up less than an hour and a half ago.

  “Jesus,” Ronnie said.

  “What is it?” Paula asked.

  Ronnie turned to answer her but the sun was hitting her chest just right. Two sandy hills under a perfectly blue sky. It was exactly what he needed to see to wipe the unsettling feeling away.

  “You’re gorgeous,” he said.

  4

  Fuck it felt good to be high on the water.

  “Faster!” Paula howled. Ronnie was surprised. Hadn’t pegged her as Queen Fun, party girl, louder than the engine he revved. He was glad for it.

  “You got it,” Ronnie said.

  Adam’s friend Bobby was at the end of the long white rope, hanging tight to the tube, fear in his eyes. The kids wanted to go tubing? Okay. Ronnie would take them tubing. His way. Party spin. Good Dad. Great Dad. Scare the shit out Bobby and he’ll remember this day forever. And you shoulda seen Paula Thomas tying the rope to the back of the boat. Ronnie watched the whole thing, hardly heard it when Bobby asked where he was supposed to grip the tube. Adam showed him.

  “Go Bobby!”

  Adam and his friend Nate were crowded at the back of the boat, their little faces just jutting out of their orange life jackets. The ladies were up front, hanging onto the cushions, the bow of the speedboat up in the air. The faster Ronnie went, the higher that bow went, and it started to feel like he was directing a movie; panning the camera up, a better angle on Paula and Tiffany both.

  “Bobby!” Nate called out.

  Bobby on the tube looked like he was going through something. Like he would never be the same again. Ahead, the women were laughing. They’d circled the lake and Ronnie saw his house again. Couldn’t even tell there was a party today. Ashley and her crew were great. If not for the HAPPY BIRTHDAY ADAM sign still hanging, you’d think nobody was home.

  Except somebody was.

  Somebody was on the deck, looking out at the lake.

  “Hey,” Ronnie said, slowing the boat down.

  A second person came out the glass door and Ronnie recognized it as Ashley. So the first guy must’ve been part of her crew.

  But for a second there . . .

  Jesus, Ronnie felt piqued. He thought of the ceiling creaking. Thought of the feeling he had upstairs, any time Adam’s bedroom door was closed. Thought of the fact that, come tomorrow, he’d have the house to himself all over again.

  He revved the boat and Paula fell back into the bench, spilling half her beer on her belly and crotch. This made her laugh even harder and Tiffany reached from one bench to the other and helped her wipe the beer off her body.

&
nbsp; Ronnie smiled.

  Women and fun. Exactly what he needed. You just never knew when they’d pop up. Never knew which shadows they were hiding in, just waiting to leap out at you.

  In the rearview mirror Ronnie saw Bobby duck his head into the tube. He was hanging on one handed. When he came up again he was wearing a mask.

  A green one.

  Wrinkled flesh over the eyes. A nose that reached its lips.

  “HEY!” Ronnie yelled, turning the boat fast.

  Bobby was tossed from the tube.

  “Ronnie!” Paula said.

  But Ronnie was turning the boat around faster than he should. Approaching Bobby faster than he should, too.

  But when the boy was in sight, Ronnie saw he was wearing a Hulk mask. Nothing more.

  “You sure you’re okay to drive this thing?”

  It was Tiffany, close to his ear. Her breath cooler than the warm Halloween air.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “That was awesome,” Nate said.

  “Awesome!” Adam repeated. It sounded good, hearing Adam’s voice back to the way it should sound.

  Ronnie went to the back of the boat and drew the rope in. Bobby swam to the ladder.

  “You looked like you saw the devil out there, Bobby,” he said, helping the kid back onboard.

  Bobby looked at him funny. “You did, Mister Stern.”

  Ronnie stood up straight. “I did what?”

  “You looked like you saw something.”

  Then Adam and Nate were pulled Bobby into the boat. Ronnie looked out to the water. As he crossed the boat, heading for the wheel, he overheard Adam say the word bed.

  “What’s that?” Ronnie asked, stopping.

  “Nothing.” But Adam looked like he was keeping a secret.

  “No. You said something. What was it?”

  “I didn’t say anything, Daddy. Bobby did.”

  Ronnie looked to Bobby. To Nate.

  “Adam,” he said. “There’s nothing under your bed. I just checked. You don’t even have any lint under there, buddy.”

  Tiffany laughed

  “You just checked!” she repeated.

  “You hear me?” Ronnie said.

  Paula got up and hunched her shoulders, arched her eyebrows, made her hands into pretend claws.

  “I’m the monster!” she said. “Under your bed!”

  The kids screamed.

  “Jesus, Paula,” Ronnie said. “You’re gonna scare the shit out of them.”

  But the way they were all looking at him, he could tell the person who looked most afraid was himself.

  5

  The kids were in the basement on the couches. Ben was long gone. Ronnie had the two women upstairs, sitting at the bar, his bar, down the stone hall, past the stairs. They passed a joint.

  Night had come.

  “Don’t trick or treaters come by?” Tiffany asked.

  Ronnie shook his head. Standing behind the bar, he mixed three drinks. “No. Our drive leads right to the main road. Who’s gonna walk that with their kid?”

  “Let’s scare them,” Paula said. She pointed to the floor.

  “Jesus,” Ronnie said. “What is it with you and scaring little kids?”

  “It’s fun,” she said. Then she took her top off.

  Women and fun. Out of the shadows. Who knew?

  Ronnie leaned on the bar, smiled at them both.

  “So,” he said. “What happens next?”

  But the doorbell interrupted whatever might’ve happened next.

  Ronnie walked the hall to the front door. He opened it and stared blankly at a woman who looked like an IRS agent next to the two he’d just walked away from.

  “Hi. Are Bobby and Nate ready?”

  Ronnie almost said, I didn’t know who they belonged to.

  “Sure. Give me a second.”

  He left her there, went downstairs, and rushed the kids out of the basement.

  The lady thanked Ronnie for the party. For watching the kids. For everything. Ronnie nodded. Waved goodbye. Closed the door.

  Relief washed over him like a bigger, unseen drink. The party was over. Adam would go to bed. He could lose himself in these women.

  “And you,” he said, kneeling down to Adam’s height in the dark foyer. “Did you have fun today?”

  Adam nodded. Then, “Is it time for bed?”

  Such a good kid. You didn’t have to tell him. He told you.

  “Yep city, Adam. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

  At the foot of the stairs, Ronnie heard the women giggling and wondered what he was missing. He looked up the stairs.

  Adam climbed first and Ronnie followed. Adam, obviously tired in the way only kids are, went straight to his bed. Ronnie didn’t bring up brushing his teeth. Had him in his pajamas and tucked under the red comforter in minutes.

  He kissed Adam’s forehead.

  “Had a great time today, buddy. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  Ronnie looked once around the room.

  “Hey, Adam.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re not . . . ”

  He wanted to ask Adam if he was freaked out. Wanted to ask him if that man in the fucked up dollar store green troll mask freaked him out. Did he need Daddy to sleep with him tonight?

  “What, Daddy?”

  “I was just gonna ask if you wanted pancakes in the morning.”

  “Yes!”

  “Good. Me, too. I love you, kiddo. I’ll be downstairs if you need me. Knock first.”

  “Okay.”

  Ronnie got up and paused at the doorway, a finger on the light switch. He watched Adam close his eyes. Such a good kid. Looked so tiny under all that red.

  Adam!

  Ronnie looked to the floor beneath the bed.

  He was stoned. Imaginative. That’s all. Heard Adam’s breathing and tried not to think it could be someone else. Down there under the bed.

  Before leaving, Ronnie knelt to the floor. Put his ear to the wood. Looked all the way under the bed.

  Nothing.

  He got up and, thinking of the women downstairs, turned off the lights and went to them.

  6

  “Oh, come on,” Ronnie said. “You’re leaving?”

  Paula shrugged. She looked dour. They’d both lost a little something since he last saw them. Ronnie knew the feeling well. When the drinks and the drugs wore off, when the sweet spot of the night was behind you.

  “Fuck!”

  “Hey,” Tiffany said, no longer the party girl. “Don’t get mean.”

  “Hey, I’m not. I just thought we were going somewhere.”

  “Where?” Paula asked.

  Ronnie tried to buy some time.

  “How are you guys getting home? How about that?”

  “Called a cab,” Paula said. Then she burped.

  “Jesus.”

  “Hey,” Tiffany again.

  “All right. Whatever. Go home. I hope you had fun. Happy Halloween.”

  He wished he hadn’t said it. Reminded him of masks.

  Tiffany’s phone lit up.

  “Cab’s here.”

  Ronnie felt a sudden stab of something deeper than loneliness. He didn’t want these women to leave. Ridiculously he considered going back out on the lake. Anything to get out of the house.

  But he walked them to the door and saw them off. Made jokes. Laughed at theirs. Said goodbye.

  Then they were gone. And the house felt much colder for it.

  Except he wasn’t alone. Adam was asleep upstairs.

  Ronnie locked the front door and returned to the bar. He fixed himself a rum and coke and drank it. Mostly in the dark. He thought about calling someone. Who? He’d suggest skinny-dipping. Night swimming. Women liked that kind of thing.

  “Dammit.”

  Ronnie set his phone face down on the bar. He was stoned. Drunk. Very. He fixed a second drink and carried
it with him through the house. Through the kitchen. Out the deck door. Onto the deck. He stood in the dark and listened to the frogs and crickets. Mating calls.

  Life could be hard sometimes.

  “I feel you guys,” he said, raising his glass to nature.

  He looked down to the slope and thought about the guy who wasn’t with the clowns.

  He considered calling the police, see if they had an update. Did they find the guy? Did they talk to him? He reached into his pocket but his phone was still on the bar.

  Fuck it.

  He carried his drink inside. He liked the feel of the cool floor against his bare feet. That was something, anyway. Not a threesome with two bombshells in daisy dukes, but something.

  He sipped as he took the stairs, upstairs, on his way to his bedroom. The carpet felt good under his feet, too. Good. Good was good.

  At his door, he paused, looked over his shoulder, down the long hall to Adam’s bedroom.

  The yard light, shining through Adam’s window showed him an approximation of his son.

  Showed him the foot of the bed.

  Ronnie turned to enter his own bedroom but stopped.

  He looked back down the hall.

  “Come on,” he said, the way people do when they don’t realize they’re speaking, when they need to say something to stave off fear. Real fear.

  Something was under Adam’s bed.

  A blanket? Had Adam shoved a blanket down there? Maybe he was scared. Wanted to fill the space. That way nothing could . . .

  Ronnie started shaking. He didn’t want to believe it, but the ice was rattling in his drink so it meant it was true. Meant he was scared.

  Was something beneath Adam’s bed?

  He reached for his phone again.

  Dammit!

  Still on the bar.

  He took the hall slow, stopping every two steps to squint, to look harder.

  Something moved. Under Adam’s bed.

  Ronnie stopped.

  Fuck, you’re breathing loud.

  He thought something moved. But did it? Just a bit? Enough to show a flash of color?

  A spot of green?

  Halfway to Adam’s room, Ronnie hurried downstairs, then down the hall, into the bar. He grabbed his phone and rushed through the contacts.

  Claire.

  “Hello?”

  “Claire, Claire!”

  “Why are you whisper shouting?”

  “Something’s beneath Adam’s bed.”