by Hart, Jerry
“You need two more,” said Clark.
“Why?”
He looked at Don. “It’s bad luck if you don’t have a five-name minimum.”
“Says who?”
“Everybody knows that.”
Don shook his head as he tried to think of additional names. “I’m not too fond of my stepmom,” he said.
“Add the bitch,” Clark encouraged.
Don did, and that left one slot. “I can’t think of anyone else.”
“You will eventually,” Clark said darkly. “You will.”
Don sighed as he struggled to come up with another name. He briefly thought of little-bastard Zeke up in Connecticut, but that boy got a rock to the head. Plus, he was up north—too far.
“Perfect,” Clark said. “You have your list.”
Confused, Don looked down and saw a fifth name he didn’t remember writing: Monica Harris.
* * *
The Scott house took on a negative atmosphere, and Don attributed it to the souring of Mom and Adrian’s relationship. Don didn’t know what was going on, but he didn’t like what it was doing to his mother. Her house-cleaning skills took a sudden nosedive as the trash began to pile up not only in the kitchen but in the living room.
He oftentimes had difficulty finding a clean place on the couch in which to sit, so he spent most of his time in his room with his Sega and his crappy TV whose screen turned green randomly for no reason. Beating on its side seemed to be the only thing that would return the picture to normal.
It was during this time in his life Don wondered if this was what the curse wanted: to ruin his life. If only Grandpa was still alive. He knew more about the curse than he ever told Don. It couldn’t be just Grandpa who knew, though. What about his numerous children—Don’s aunts and uncles?
What about Dad?
As Don sat on his bed in the early morning hours, waiting for the bus, he looked at his see-through phone and thought about calling his father. But what would he tell him? There wasn’t much to tell at the moment, and Dad knew about the “dog” that attacked Mom years ago.
Don gasped as he thought about how long it had been. Eleven years. To him it seemed like only yesterday he was cowering in his grandparents’ bathroom, listening to the screams coming from the dark outside.
He put his hand on the phone, but left it on the cradle. He told himself it was too early to call. He had the strong urge to talk to his father, though. Don could feel it, like an oncoming storm—something bad was going to happen soon. He didn’t know what, but he felt its approach.
Having feelings didn’t seem like enough, so he removed his hand from the phone and went outside to meet his bus. Never mind the first stop a mile away; he simply stood at the end of his driveway and waited. Sym would be at the first stop, and he and Don still weren’t getting along.
Once Don got on the bus, he was surprised to see Sym sitting in the second row; usually he grabbed one of the rear seats. He was alone. He looked at Don and smiled. Don slowly sat down next to him, treating Sym like a bomb ready to explode.
As soon as the bus left the neighborhood to travel the main road to the school, Sym said, “I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you.”
Don didn’t know what to say, so he simply nodded.
“After Nick told me what you did, I thought you sounded like a real jerk.”
“You don’t anymore?” Don asked.
“Well, kinda, but not as much. Especially now, since Nick and Monica are dating.”
“They’re what?” This was news to Don.
“You didn’t know?” Sym asked. “Don’t you have classes with them?”
“Yeah, but I switched seats in health; I sit on the other side of the room so I don’t have to see them. And I never talk to Nick in Government.”
“Well, he told me they were going out.” Sym looked out the window at the passing landscape. “Sorry.”
Don didn’t know how to feel about the news. He still liked Monica, and he had hoped one day they would become friends again. But with her and Nick...dating...the chances of reconciliation seemed far away.
Maybe even impossible.
* * *
Don’s uneasy feeling seemed like a physical weight the week after they first manifested. They seemed worse whenever Adrian was around, so Don tried to figure out if there was a link. He couldn’t see why there would be. Adrian seemed like a nice guy, and Don and Ethan were getting along with him.
But something was wrong.
The house was still a mess, and the nightmares had returned. Don would have preferred dreaming about Chucky or Michael Myers, but those monsters had been replaced by the boathouse from the wallpaper in his childhood home. He kept dreaming he was trapped inside, with a monster circling outside. He could never see the monster, only hear its rumbling breathing.
He never dreamed about the voice that had spoken to him outside of Dad’s house that summer. He did, however, dream more than once he was running through a forest, at night, on all fours. Like a dog.
Or a beast of some kind.
That dream had never been frightening; it had been exhilarating. The trees had passed by in a blur, and the wind had blown pleasantly in his face. He knew it was he running because he could see his arms reach out in front of him as he took each step.
A knock on his door brought him from his reverie. “Come in.”
The door opened and Adrian poked his head in. “Your mom asked me to take you boys to get your haircuts,” he said with a smile.
Don, who was sitting on his bed with his back against the wall, absently touched his head. His brown hair was incredibly shaggy, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten it cut. “Okay.”
The barbershop Adrian took them to was next door to a gym, located in a little plaza surrounded by large trees. Don had fond memories of sitting at the front of the gym with Ethan and some coloring books while Adrian and Mom worked out, early ’90s rock blaring from the speakers on the walls. Don remembered a song in particular about a man walking down the only road he’d ever known, or something. But that was when Don was a child, when he could find amusement in just about anything.
Those days were slowly slipping away.
Adrian, Don and Ethan stepped into the barbershop. Don instantly smelled the strong odor of aftershave. Though he had never been to this shop before, he heard the familiar hum of clippers. There was even a TV attached to the wall near the ceiling.
Something was different about this place, though.
There was only one barber, and one customer. Both were black.
“I know your mom takes you boys to the barbershop on the base,” said Adrian, “but my friend works here, and he’ll give me a better deal.”
“How much better?” Ethan asked as they took theirs seats across from the barber stools.
“Free.” Adrian smiled greedily.
The barber, an elderly man with white flecks in his curly black hair, looked at the boys and smiled. “Uh-oh,” he said. “I hope I remember how to cut white hair.”
Don gulped. The last thing he wanted was a bad haircut.
The barber, noticing Don’s stricken expression, said, “I’m just teasin’; I can cut all kinds of hair.”
Adrian laughed. “Don’t scare the boy, Willy. Else I won’t be able to bring him back for repeat business.”
Willy snorted. “What business?” Clearly the barber knew about the amazing “deal” he would bestow upon his friend.
A few minutes later, Willy finished with his customer and prompted Ethan into the stool. While he cut the little boy’s hair, Willy chatted with Adrian about many things: jobs, family, friends. Willy seemed like a pretty nice guy, though he cut hair very slowly. He took nearly an hour just to do Ethan’s, and Don dozed off a few times while he waited.
When it was his turn, he was afraid he’d fall asleep and get an ear cut off with the clippers. After twenty minutes, though, his worry faded. Willy was much gentler than Don’s usual barbers.
As the hypnotic buzz of the clippers eased Don’s eyes closed, Willy asked Adrian a peculiar question. “So, are these Kate’s kids?”
Adrian didn’t respond out loud. Don slowly opened his eyes to find him shaking his head furiously. Then he noticed Don looking at him and stopped. Ethan was next to Adrian, eyes closed and arms crossed.
“These are Hilda’s kids,” Adrian said a little harshly.
“Oh, uh, that’s what I meant,” Willy stammered. “Hilda’s.”
Don wondered what was going on. How could Willy get the names confused?
And then it clicked home. Don couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. Willy didn’t get the names mixed up. He got the women confused.
As in two women.
Adrian was seeing someone other than Mom. And her name was Kate.
Don looked away from Adrian’s guilty eyes and focused on Ethan instead. His little brother’s eyes were still closed, arms still crossed. But Don didn’t believe he was really asleep. Don was used to this trick by now. He also knew Ethan liked to cause trouble. If he was indeed awake, he had heard the conversation between Adrian and Willy and had come to the same conclusion.
What would Mom do to Adrian if she ever found out?
Chapter 12
“Hey, Dad,” Don said into his phone.
“Hey, son. What’s up?”
“I just...wanted to talk.” He didn’t know what to say to his father, how to tell him about his growing fear. It had been two days since the haircut, and the tension involving Adrian had only intensified.
“What’s wrong, Don?”
Don realized he’d paused for too long. “I’m worried about Mom.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
“Nothing. She’s just changed a lot.”
“How so?”
“She never cleans the house anymore.”
There was a silent moment, and then Dad laughed. “Is that all, son? That’s nothing to worry about.”
Don laughed too. “You haven’t seen the house lately. But it’s not just that. It’s.... Do you remember the thing that bit Mom a long time ago?”
A longer, more significant pause from Dad. “Yeah,” he finally said.
“What was it that bit her?”
Dad laughed without humor. “It was a dog, of course.”
“Are you sure?”
Dad sighed. “What’s this about, son? Is your mom there? Let me talk to her.”
“She and Ethan went to the grocery store.”
“Why are you asking about the dog?” Dad sounded angry.
“Because, I think something’s happening to Mom, and I think it has something to do with what happened that night.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because of what Grandpa told me.”
Another pause. And then Dad said, “If you’re talking about the curse, that’s just an old story your grandpa used to tell all the time. He even told me about it when I was a kid. It’s like a fairy tale.”
“I don’t believe that,” said Don. “And I know you don’t, either.”
Dad sighed again. “It’s just a story.”
Absolutely no conviction in those words—Dad wasn’t even trying anymore.
“What wrong with her, Dad?”
“It depends,” he replied. “How are things going between her and Adam?”
“You mean Adrian.” Don laughed. “And things aren’t going good. I think he’s cheating on her.”
“Does she know?”
“Not yet; Adrian’s still alive.”
Dad laughed nervously. It made Don nervous as well.
“I think it’s time you boys came and lived with me for a while,” said Dad.
Don blinked. He didn’t expect that response. The first thing that came to mind after the words sank in was, Would I be able to put up with Yvonne’s bullshit?
“What wrong with Mom?” Don repeated. His father knew something and Don refused to get sidetracked again.
“Nothing’s wrong with her. Things are just better if she’s happy. When she gets really upset, she...changes.”
“Changes how?” Don asked quietly.
“Her demeanor changes; she gets...violent.”
“Did you ever make her unhappy?”
“Many times. That’s why I left.”
“If you knew she got like this, why didn’t you take Ethan and me with you?”
“I tried, son. Your mom wouldn’t allow it.”
Don vaguely remembered a time back at the old house when Mom and Dad argued about something. The word custody came up, but Don hadn’t known what that meant back then. That felt like a million years ago. “I know,” he finally murmured to his father.
“Things will be all right, son. Next month, you’ll get to stay with us, and I’ll talk to your mother. Guess what?”
“What?”
“Yvonne, Elizabeth and I are moving to Texas.”
Don gasped. “Why?”
“My job is relocating to Arlington. We’ve already moved most of the stuff to storage, and my company is paying for a really nice hotel until I can find an apartment.”
Don had never been to Texas before; it sounded nice. But then he suddenly realized Dad had changed the subject again. “Dad, what about the curse?”
Dad sighed one last time before saying, “There is no curse, son.”
* * *
Dad picked the kids up in May, and Don knew somehow this summer would be the last in which he and Ethan would merely “visit” their father. Whether that was just wishful thinking or actual foresight was unclear. What was clear, however, was Don’s growing sense of dread involving Mom and Adrian. Would Adrian still be around when the kids returned from summer vacation?
The drive to Texas took nearly as long as the drive Connecticut, and wasn’t nearly as scenic. Don and Ethan were excited nonetheless to be visiting a new state. Dad had informed his sons they would not have to dress up like cowboys during their stay.
When they arrived in Arlington, the first thing Don noticed was Six Flags Amusement Park. He had fond memories of the one up north.
And then there was the Ballpark. Dad promised he’d take his sons to every game during their vacation. Don found himself happier than he’d been in a long time, but Dad topped everything when he drove the kids to the luxury suite his company had set him up with until he could find an apartment.
The hotel room looked like a small apartment, with a kitchen, a living room, and a bedroom. Don and Ethan had to share the foldout couch once again, like they had in Connecticut, but they didn’t mind. Not with an amusement park and a ballpark down the street.
The kids called Mom to let her know they’d arrived safely. Don was tempted to ask how Adrian was doing, but managed to keep the question to himself. He’d only been away from Augusta for a day, and as far as he knew, Mom wasn’t aware of Adrian’s unfaithfulness. Yet.
* * *
The first thing Don and Ethan did after settling in was roam the hotel grounds. They discovered a basketball and tennis court, as well as a gym. It was only seven in the evening, so the boys played hoops for an hour before going back to the room.
The baby cried for most of the night, and Don could hear her through the walls as if they were in the same room. When he finally did fall asleep, he had an odd dream. It involved a man with him, Ethan and Mom. Every time Don tried to look at the man’s face, his gaze would wander to something else instead. Don just couldn’t look directly at the stranger, for some reason. He only managed to get a glimpse of the man’s hair and saw it was short and white. Don was fairly certain the man wasn’t Adrian or Dad.
Everyone at the table was dressed in their Sunday best, and Mom had her long brown hair done in an elaborate style. The four of them sat on each side of the table, and directly at the center sat a large covered platter. There were also a few candles on the tabletop, and the flames pointed in different directions.
Don suddenly realized he didn’t kno
w where he was. He and his family—and the stranger—were surrounded by darkness. Don didn’t like sitting there, as if they were all one big happy family having dinner together, with the stranger acting as Father.
Speaking of dinner, the platter quivered and rattled. Don stared at it, afraid of what was beneath the lid. He was sitting directly across from Ethan; Mom and the stranger at the ends of the table. Everyone was staring at Don.
“What’s for dinner, son?” Mom asked him.
“How should I know?” Don replied, irritated and confused.
“Well,” said the strange man, “lift the lid and take a peek.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You’ll have to eventually.”
Don tried to look at him, but his eyes automatically locked onto one of the candles instead. “Who are you?”
The man laughed. “I’m your father, of course.”
So it was Dad. But it didn’t sound like him....
Don gave up trying to look at the man and looked upon the platter once again. It had stopped quivering at some point and now simply sat there, reflecting the candlelight. It seemed even more frightening.
Don stood up and leaned against the table.
He grabbed the handle on the platter’s lid.
He removed the lid.
* * *
He started awake, completely drenched in sweat. His heart was beating so fast he feared it would burst. The thing on the platter.... He hadn’t gotten a good look at it before it leapt onto him and ripped his throat out. It had looked like some kind of small, black bat with red wings. He tried to wish the dream from his memory.
The creature didn’t bother him as much as the man at the table. He’d said he was Don’s dad, but that wasn’t Dad. Don was certain of that. Elizabeth started crying again, but Don didn’t mind this time. It made him feel less alone.
An hour later, he heard sounds from the kitchen and hoped it was Dad. He had grown tired of watching the sun rise through the blinds. Don slowly and quietly climbed out of bed so as not to wake Ethan, then rounded the corner and saw his father in the kitchen, cooking breakfast: sausage, grits, eggs, bacon and biscuits. It was a ritual he had adopted last summer but he only did it on Sunday mornings. Don loved Dad’s Sunday breakfasts.