Bad Seeds: Evil Progeny

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Bad Seeds: Evil Progeny Page 6

by Holly Black


  The deputies said it was about the dead birds. They took all the cleaning stuff from under the counters and put it in plastic tubs and carried it away. They took everything out of the medicine cabinets in the bathrooms. They took the stuff dad uses to work on the pick-up. They opened all the drawers everywhere, and turned over all the furniture, even my bed and dresser. Rowfy is barking, and Howie the burglar is very nervous. He hates the fucking cops. He says, get the fuck out until LEO is out of the fucking house. He says he knows a girl in Conway we can crash with.

  Mom kept saying, “I don’t believe this is happening. I don’t believe this is happening.”

  “Mom,” I said. “Mom.” I tugged on her hand.

  “What, Bobby?”

  “We should get the fuck out until LEO is out of the fucking house,” I said. “A girl named Connie … her car crashed … I think.”

  She went, “Sh-sh-shhhhh,” and put her fingers over my mouth. She hugged me to her. Then she began to sob again. A couple of the deputies were looking at us.

  “What does this have to with West Nile?” dad said. “We keep screens up. The house isn’t infected or anything.”

  “It’s not West Nile,” one of the deputies said. “West Nile didn’t kill the crows. The state lab says they were poisoned.”

  Dad got a look on his face like someone ran over his dog. “Poisoned … ” He stared at the deputies carting stuff away. “Tom,” he said to one of the deputies. “You know us. We don’t cause trouble. You think we poisoned a bunch of birds? C’mon.”

  Tom shrugged. “Rick, it’s not up to me. You can talk to the detective if you want. You know we’ve gotten calls to your house before. Like that thing with the Davisons’ dog.”

  “A dead dog, for chrissakes. They investigated it, it wasn’t poisoned. Just a dead dog. How’s that our fault?”

  “And the guy from Conway with a warrant on him. When a dead burglar turns up in your kid’s bedroom, it makes people spit out their chew.”

  “It was a heart attack,” dad said. “He was on cocaine, the coroner said. He had already hit two other places, he just happens to have his goddamn heart attack in my goddamn house.”

  “I know, I know,” Tom the deputy said, “but that kind of stuff draws attention to you, so the next time something happens in the neighborhood—”

  A deputy came out of mom and dad’s bedroom. “Who uses the computer in here?” he asked.

  Mom and dad looked at each other. Finally, mom said, “I do. Mostly.”

  “Someone’s been doing searches on how to poison birds,” the deputy said.

  Mom put her arms around me and hugged me hard. “God forgive me,” she said. She looked down at me. “I was only trying to help you.”

  Dad said, “Janice. What the hell.”

  Tom the deputy said, “Ms. Douglas, I’m going to ask you to go down to the office with me and give a statement.”

  Mom shook her head rapidly back and forth. “No, no … ”

  Another deputy in a black leather jacket stepped up beside her and took her arm. Tom said, “Things will go better for everyone if you cooperate, Ms. Douglas.”

  “Are you arresting me?” Mom asked.

  Howie the burglar is frantic. Shit’s goin’ down, he says, fuckin’ hogs are gonna to put the old lady away. Call a bail bondsmen, he says, I got a name for you in Little Rock. I didn’t know what that meant. Howie isn’t helping, Rowfy is just barking his head off so I couldn’t think, the cockroaches and silverfish and Penny’s goldfish and the crayfish from the creek are telling me to scuttle under the bed, dig under a rock, swim, hide, but I knew I shouldn’t do that. I had to stay and save mom and dad.

  The sheriff’s deputies knew what to do. They were in charge. They were the ones I needed to learn from.

  I squeezed out of mom’s arms. I put my hands on the deputy who was holding her. I opened him up like a book and read him in, until everything he knew was inside me. Like when I read the Ant and the Grasshopper.

  I learned everything I could from him until there wasn’t any more of him left.

  The empty part of the deputy fell down with a bang that shook the floor. Mom gasped, “Bobby, no!” Everyone was yelling.

  “Jake! Jake!”

  “What the hell happened?”

  “Is he breathing?”

  “No pulse. Start CPR.”

  “Christ almighty.”

  “Ed, call for EMS.”

  One man started kissing what used to be Jake, and another was doing push-ups on its chest.

  Goddamn, Jake says. Goddamn. What is this? I never been like this before.

  “Did anyone hear a shot?” one of the deputies said.

  “Uh-uh.”

  “No shot.”

  “Anyone know how to reach Jake’s wife?”

  “It’s like that death from before, the guy with the warrant on him.”

  “You don’t think the suspect poisoned him? Hey, nobody ate anything, did they? Nothing off the counter, or anything? Since we been here?”

  Tom yelled, “Cut the chatter. Everybody out, except the CPR. Secure the family in a vehicle.”

  A deputy took us outside. Mom and dad and I sat in the back of a police car. Jake wants to fight with Howie, he doesn’t like him at all. I had to keep them apart. I said to Jake, tell me how to help mom and dad. Jake says I should do whatever the deputies wanted. He says that mom is in trouble, and there isn’t anything I can do about it right now. He says that dad and I will probably be released later.

  I looked out the window. The Dixons and the Davisons were in their yards, watching. I waved to Peggy Davison, but I don’t think she saw me. Or maybe she did, and still didn’t wave back. She’s been scared of me since Rowfy.

  I heard a siren coming. An ambulance pulled up. Men in orange clothing got out and went into our trailer. They had a metal table with cross legs that rolled on squeaky wheels.

  Mom hugged me. “Bobby,” she said, “I want you to know that I love you, baby. I saw you with the crows, and I was afraid you’d touch them, and they’d die like Rowfy. And I was afraid people would see, and they’d find out about you … and you’d be … they’d hurt you … you got to understand, baby, I was trying to help you.” She started crying instead of talking.

  It’s not safe to talk here, Jake said. The car is wired. There’s a voice-activated digital recorder.

  “It’s not safe to talk here,” I said to mom. “The car is wired. There’s a voice, something-something corduroy.”

  Mom stared at me, then started crying even harder. She hugged me some more. Dad just looked confused.

  A sheriff’s deputy got in the car, and we drove to a place that Jake says is the Sheriff’s Office. The deputies took mom away. Dad and I sat around on plastic chairs for a long time. They gave me a sandwich. Dad said he wasn’t hungry. A sheriff’s deputy took dad and me into a little room and asked a lot of questions. Dad said he wanted a lawyer. Howie says, don’t say nothin’ till they get you a public defender. Jake says, don’t lie, but don’t volunteer anything. Don’t say anything about killing people.

  I don’t kill people, I told him. They’re all right here.

  I didn’t see mom again that night. Dad said she had to stay at the Sheriff’s Office. One of the deputies drove us home.

  Dad said I could sleep in the bed with him. I said I’d be okay in my own room. Dad is scary when he yells. He seemed all nervous tonight, and I thought maybe he’d yell. I went in my room, put on my pajamas, and scuttled under the bed like I learned from the cockroaches. People are afraid of the dark, but cockroaches know that dark places are safest.

  I couldn’t get to sleep for a long time because Howie and Jake started fighting again. Jake really doesn’t like Howie. I finally told Jake that he had to shut up, or I’d get rid of him.

  You should get rid of that stupid crackhead, instead, Jake says. He’s nothing but trouble.

  No, I say to him, Howie has taught me lots of neat stuff. You have to be nice
to him.

  Jake isn’t listening, so I pick one of the silverfish from long ago, from when I first discovered how to read things. I’ve learned all I can from silverfish, and I didn’t need it any more. Getting rid of the silverfish is like rubbing it between my hands, until there is nothing left but silvery dust. I hold up my palms and blow the dust away. Where the silverfish had been, there’s nothing. Where its whispery voice had been, there’s only silence.

  You have to be nice, I say, or that’s what I’ll do to you.

  Jake doesn’t say anything after that.

  I missed mom. I wanted her back.

  I curled up and put my thumb in my mouth, and went to sleep.

  Dad stayed home with me for a few days, but then he had to go to work, and big girls came over to watch me. All of them seemed scared, at least at first.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked one girl.

  “What do you think?” she said. “Two people have died in this house. Just dropped dead for no reason.”

  Most of the girls just watched TV all the time and played with their hair. One of them helped me read books, but it wasn’t like with mom.

  It took forever before I saw mom again. We had to drive for hours and hours in the pick-up. Mom wasn’t in the Sheriff’s Office any more, she was in a place called Hawkins. Dad had to drive through Little Rock to get there. Little Rock has tall buildings. I saw a jet plane take off from the airport.

  Hawkins had a high wire fence around it, and lots of buildings inside. There was a big gate, but we didn’t drive through it. Dad parked the pickup, and we went in through a door beside the gate. Dad had to talk to policemen who let us in. They’re not police, Jake says, they’re prison guards. Screws, says Howie. I hate screws. The guards searched us with their hands, and made us walk through scanner to look for guns. That’s what Jake says it was. I ask Howie, and he says yeah. I like it when they agree. Sometimes they don’t, and then I have to decide.

  Inside it smelled like floor wax. A lady guard walked in front of us. She smelled nice. Look at that butt, says Howie.

  Just agree to everything they want, Jake says. Don’t do anything funny or they won’t let you see mom.

  This here sketches me out, Howie says. I don’t never want to be in a jailhouse again.

  The lady guard took dad and me into a little room with chairs. Then she brought mom in through another door in the back. Mom had on a gray dress I hadn’t seen her wear before. Mom picked me up and hugged me and kissed me, then she hugged and kissed dad.

  Mom and dad talked a long time, about things like bail and probation and getting the hearing moved up. Jake tries to explain to me. It’s hard to understand. Howie says, it don’t matter, it’s always a set-up, they’re always out to screw you over.

  Mom asked how I’m doing. I told her about the girls who come over.

  “Are they nice to you?”

  “They’re okay, I guess.”

  “Is he learning anything, Rick?” Mom asked.

  Dad shrugged. “I tell them to read to him.”

  “They don’t do it as good as you do,” I said.

  “Oh, baby,” mom said.

  “I’m going to have to put him in public school in the fall,” dad said. “The lawyer says you’re not going to be out by then, even if the plea bargain goes through.”

  “You couldn’t get bail money?”

  “I called both families. They ask why, and when they hear it’s about poisoning birds, no one wants to help. Why’d you do it, Janice? You’re so impulsive.”

  “I won’t have him in public school,” mom said. Mom never gets angry, but her voice was closer to being angry than I had ever heard before. “Not where there’s a lot of people and I can’t watch over him. Something might happen.”

  “Like what? Like he might eat another bug?”

  “You know.”

  Dad looked away.

  “You know, Rick. Like what happened with the deputy. If Bobby does it again, they’ll hurt him. He doesn’t know any better. He can’t help himself. Not unless I’m there to stop him.”

  The door behind her opened. The lady guard looked in. “Time’s up, Ms. Douglas.”

  “Rick, promise me you won’t put him in public school.”

  Dad’s voice was like a trapped bug that can’t escape. “Babe, I can’t keep him home, the county will come and take him.”

  “Promise me.”

  “Ms. Douglas, we have to go. Right now.”

  “Okay, okay, I promise,” dad said.

  “You’re lying to me,” mom said.

  “Janice—”

  “Ms. Douglas, time’s up,” the lady guard said, “You have to return to your cell now, or I will call another guard.”

  Mom grabbed my hands and squeezed them. Her fingers were dry, and cold. She stared in my eyes, and I couldn’t look away. “Bobby, they’re trying to take me away from you. Do you want me to be with you, and help you, all the time, forever and ever?”

  Of course I did.

  “Then take me with you now.”

  “Janice!” dad yelled. “What the hell are you doing?”

  The guard was talking on her walkie-talkie. “Assistance in Visit 4 for an unruly prisoner.”

  “But … ” I said. “But … ”

  “This is the only way I can be with you,” Mom said. “Please. Like you did with Rowfy and the burglar.” Dad was trying to pull her away from me.

  Mom’s hands tightened on my fingers so much that it hurt. “Please, Bobby. So we can be together forever.”

  So I opened mom up like a book, and read every last bit of her. Because she wanted me to.

  The thing that used to be mom fell down, half over a chair. I think its head hit something. Blood came out. Everyone was yelling. Dad started yelling at what was left of mom, and shaking it. The lady guard was yelling for medical on her walkie-talkie. Oh christ, oh christ, oh christ, Howie says. Don’t do anything crazy, Jake says, there’ll be an investigation, but I think we can wiggle our way out.

  It’s okay, baby, mom says. I’m here. Everything’s okay, now.

  But everything wasn’t okay. Dad screamed, “Janice! Janice! Janice!” Then he stopped and looked at me. His mouth hung open, and he was panting. “You crazy little fucker,” he yelled, “put her back!” He grabbed me by the shirt and slapped my face, hard. “Put her back, goddamn you!” He slapped me again. Hot pain burned my face. “Give me Janice back!”

  The lady guard said, “Mister, don’t do that.” She tried to hold his arm back. “Don’t hurt the little boy.” Dad shook her off. He kept hitting me and yelling. I started to cry. Every slap hurt worse and worse.

  All of a sudden, I knew how to stop it.

  No! says mom. Bobby, no, please!

  But it hurt bad. It had to stop. It had to.

  I touched dad, opened him up, and read every bit of him into me. What was left of him fell on the floor.

  What’s this, dad says. What happened? Howie keeps saying, Oh christ, oh christ, oh christ. Mom says, oh, baby, I’m so sorry.

  The lady guard looked back and forth at the empty parts of mom and dad. “What on earth,” she said. She said into her walkie-talkie, “Medical! Where are you? We’ve got two down in Visit 4.” She offered me her hand. “Little boy, we have to get out while the medics help your parents. Okay?”

  “I want to go home,” I said. “I don’t like it here.” My face still hurt, and everything was blurry with tears. I wiped my nose with my hand.

  “I know, honey, but right now we have to—”

  “I want to go home!”

  “We need to let the medics work.” She put her arm around me and hoisted me up on her hip.

  I knew she wasn’t going to take me home. So I opened her up, and read her in.

  Her name is Kaysha.

  The empty part of her fell to the floor. I fell, too. I got some bumps, but I was okay.

  I want to go home, I say to them all. I tell Kaysha to show me the way out. She’s still
all confused and afraid. She doesn’t want to talk.

  Better talk, lady, Howie says, or he’ll blow you out like a match. I seen him done it.

  Mom says, please help us, Miss Kaysha.

  Finally Kaysha says, the staff won’t let an unaccompanied child be in the building by himself, and they won’t let us out the sally port. She says, we’re in the soup.

  I’m going home, I say. If anyone tries to stop me, I’ll read them in, and the empty part will fall down.

  Fucking hell, Howie says. We’re a goddamn machine of destruction. Let’s go fuck ’em up.

  No, baby, please, mom says.

  Jake says, It won’t work. They’ll figure it out. They’ll shoot us. We’ll die.

  I give up, dad says. I just give up. This is all crap.

  How about this, Jake says. Tell them Kaysha smelled carbon monoxide fumes.

  I practiced the words a couple of times.

  Men and women in uniforms tried to crowd in the back door of the room. They had one of those rolling metal tables. Stretcher, says Kaysha. “Holy christ, what happened here,” one of the men said.

  “She said it smelled like carbon monoxide fumes,” I said. I pointed to the empty part that used to be Kaysha. “Before she fell down.”

  The men and women were yelling into their walkie-talkies. “Get out that door, kid,” the woman said.

  I ran into the hall. Lights were going around and flashing on the ceiling. A fire alarm bell started clanging. It rang so loud it hurt my ears.

  Do what they tell you, mom says. Don’t make anyone else fall down.

  The guards are going to take you outside, Jake says. Go along with them.

  Just like Jake says, another lady guard took my hand, and we went down the hall and through the metal scanner and the door to the outside. It was bright sunshine. Men in suits and uniforms and pretty women walked around and talked and and pointed at the building we were just in. People were still hurrying out of the door.

  I heard sirens. Two ambulances and a police car pulled up outside the big gate over the road. The gate swung up.

  Now run for it, Jake says. This is it! Howie says. Run like hell!

 

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