by Hart, Jerry
“I asked around, conversed with his old classmates. Turns out he has a girlfriend, someone he went to school with.”
Don walked away from the chief, into a supply closet that held only popcorn seeds. “A girlfriend?”
“Does that surprise you?” The P.I. sounded amused.
“I just never thought of him as the type to have one.” He took a breath. “Do you have an address?”
The investigator gave it to him.
Don gasped. “That’s in our old neighborhood.”
“Then you shouldn’t have any trouble finding it. Pleasure doing business with you.”
Don hung up and sat on one of the bags. He began to plan his next move.
The next day, he was on I-20, headed to Georgia. He didn’t want to fly; that would be too quick. He wanted time to prepare. “Ethan has a girlfriend?” he asked himself over and over. It just didn’t seem possible. Had Ethan changed since his last attack?
Even so, he had a lot to answer for. All of those murders....
Thinking like that only fueled Don’s rage toward his brother. And toward the demon that made Ethan that way. Don wanted to take revenge upon it. Whether or not it could actually be killed was unknown. Don did know he was going to try something.
He had nearly a whole week off from work, and Yvonne wouldn’t miss him. He didn’t even tell her he was going out of town. They hardly ever saw each other, he in his room and she doing whatever she did. They never ate dinner together like they used to when Dad was alive, but she did leave leftovers for him. He was grateful for that.
It was weird, living in what felt like an empty house. Don hated being so estranged from his stepmom. He figured it was because he reminded her of Dad, which was ironic. As for Don, he just couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. He wanted to hate her for all the arguments they’d had over the years, but he kept forgetting to hold that grudge.
But then he would tell himself it wasn’t healthy to always hate someone, he should move on.
If he survived this trip, he promised himself things would change between him and Yvonne. He continued on the freeway, toward his unknown future.
Chapter 18
Don recognized the familiar exit and took it. Seeing the old sights brought back a flood of memories; he hadn’t been here in so long. He was surprised to find he was actually happy to be back. He immediately thought of his childhood friends he’d left behind. Nick and Clark and Sym and...Monica.
His heart sped up at the thought of her. What was she up to? Probably married with kids. That thought dragged him down a bit. He still wanted to see her if he could, before confronting Ethan. Just in case.
It was evening but not that late. Don drove to his childhood home. The big tree that once settled in the front yard was still gone, and the garage looked to have been turned into another room, perhaps a study or an extension of the living room.
Seeing the old house, the old neighborhood, made him wish he could go back in time and do things differently. He wished he could go back and be a kid without worries. He would keep Mom from being attacked by the demon. That would at least save her and Ethan the torment of the curse.
There, across the street, was Nick’s house. It looked drastically different from when he last saw it; the front yard was teeming with thick bushes, as if no one bothered with the gardening anymore.
There was a chance Nick had moved. Don didn’t have a phone number for his old friend, so the only way he could find out for sure was to go up to the front door and knock.
Don kept his truck parked in front of his old house. He got out and trotted across the street, making sure to stay on the driveway—the grass was much too thick to walk through.
There were two new-model cars in the driveway, along with an old white refrigerator. Don remembered the good old days when he and Nick used that to climb onto the roof. Don hadn’t thought of that in nearly fifteen years. He smiled as he walked a path to the front porch. His heart raced as he held his hand near the door. Was he crazy, being here? What was he going to say to Nick when he saw him? What would he do if another family lived here?
He knocked.
A tall, shaggy-haired young man answered. Don recognized him immediately.
Nick was wearing baggy clothes and had a cell phone to his ear. Rap music played in the background. For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other. Finally, Nick recognized Don and smiled. “Holy shit!” he said, holding the phone away. “Don Scott! What are you doing here?”
Don shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by.”
“Come in,” Nick said as he backed away. To the person on the phone, he said, “Bitch, I’ll call you back.” He hung up.
“Who was that?” Don asked.
“My mom.”
Don laughed before he could stop himself.
“Just kidding. It was my boo.”
Don looked around and saw a big high-definition TV in the corner along with a large stereo playing the music. A videogame was paused on the screen. He and Nick sat on the couch, which was directly in front of the door.
“I didn’t know if you still lived here, but I decided to take a chance,” said Don.
“I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”
The house even smelled the same: an assorted mix of potpourri. Don felt like he’d been transported back in time.
“You still live in Texas?” Nick asked, turning down the music with a remote.
“Yeah. It’s hot over there.”
“How’s your dad and all them?”
Don assumed “them” meant Yvonne and Liz. “Dad died last year,” he replied quietly. “Everybody else is okay.”
Nick nodded. “Sorry to hear about your dad. What happened?”
“Heart attack,” he said out loud, and then added in his head, brought on by the sight of my demonically possessed brother.
“My dad had a heart attack too, but it wasn’t fatal. He and Mom are asleep.” A long silence. “Did you guys ever find Ethan?”
Don hadn’t prepared for that question. “That’s actually why I’m here. I was told he lives in my old neighborhood.” Damn it. Why did he just say that?
“Over in Fairington? Damn. What’s he doing over there?”
“That’s what I’m here to find out.”
“Wasn’t he kidnapped or something?”
“Sort of.”
“How old is he now?”
“He’ll be twenty-one next month.”
Nick processed all of this. He seemed genuinely shocked. “Did he escape his kidnappers, or is he living with them?”
“I don’t even know if it’s really him. I’m too scared to go and check.”
Nick grinned. “So you’re just procrastinating,” he guessed. “That’s why you’re here.”
“Maybe.”
“Well, you know who else you should be visiting? Monica Harris.”
“Monica?” The name came out as a squeak. Don cleared his throat. “Isn’t she married or something?”
“Hell no she ain’t married. She was engaged for a minute, but she broke it off.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I heard all this from a friend of hers.”
“You don’t keep in touch with her?” Don asked with a grin.
“Not really. Too much history. Plus, she moved to somewhere on Windsor Meadow, by the old elementary school.” He handed Don a second controller. “She talked about you a lot after you left.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if she broke off her engagement for you.”
Don’s face burned. “Why would she do that?”
“Maybe you two are soul mates. I don’t know—chicks are weird.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have her number, would you?”
Nick picked up his cell and went through his contacts. Don was almost jealous knowing Nick had her number. It was an irrational feeling, but it was there.
/> * * *
The two friends spent an hour playing videogames and reconnecting when, a little after nine, Don said goodbye and went back to his truck across the street. He then sat there for a few minutes with his phone in his hands. He had Monica’s number ready to dial, but he just couldn’t call. He was so nervous. Almost as nervous about this as about confronting Ethan.
Thinking of the upcoming confrontation was what prompted him to finally call her.
The phone rang for what felt like an eternity. Don shook with anticipation. He gripped the steering wheel with his free hand, ready to hang up, when finally someone answered.
“Hello?” said a lovely, playful voice.
“Uh, hi, Monica. This is, uh, Don Scott.”
There was a long silence. Had she forgotten him in the ten years since she last saw him? Nick had said she talked about Don a lot, right?
“Don from mean old Ms. Meecham’s class?” she asked.
Don considered the response. The two of them had shared that class their sophomore year, but she’d asked the question as if she were talking to someone she never really cared for. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”
“Hmm.” She sounded like she was trying to remember him. “I seem to recall a Donovan Scott moving to Texas a long time ago and never calling or writing like he promised,” she teased.
He grinned. “I never promised anything.”
Monica laughed. “Of course I remember you. I’m glad you called, but how did you get my number?”
“Nick Platt gave it to me. I’m in town for a little while and....”
“And you thought you and I could hang out?” she finished for him after he faltered.
“Is that too much to ask?” He tried to sound sweet and pathetic.
“Not at all. I’m not doing anything now if you want to come over to my place.”
Monica gave him directions to the house. It was close to the old barber shop Adrian had taken Don and Ethan to before his untimely death. There was no barbershop now, though. It had been replaced by a cell-phone store.
Monica’s neighborhood was old but cozy. He found her house at the end of the street. He found her at the end of her driveway. He pulled in front of the house and got out slowly. Monica stood there with her arms crossed. She wasn’t smiling, but she didn’t look unhappy either. She studied him, making him even more nervous.
“What?” he finally asked.
“So, Nick Platt still has my number.”
“Is that a big deal?”
“For him, yeah. He hates me.”
“No he doesn’t. Why would he? You’re a lovely girl.”
“He didn’t tell you about the engagement?”
“Yeah...he did.” Don suddenly understood; he should have seen it earlier. “You two were engaged, weren’t you?”
“He didn’t tell you the whole story,” she guessed.
“No, he left out an important detail.”
“Yep, that’s just like him. Come on inside.”
The house was one-story, the front door opening into a dimly lit living room. Monica sat on a couch along the right wall of the living room. Don sat next to her.
Now that they were in a brighter environment than outside, he could see she was wearing a pink top and tight blue jeans. She was smiling now as she looked over at him.
“So,” she said, “what’s been going on with you?”
Where to start? His life story was like a horror movie. He didn’t want to talk about it, so he tried to think of a way to spin it in a more positive light.
He came up with nothing. The truth it is, then.
“My dad died last year, I work part-time at a movie theater, and I live with my stepmom.”
Monica sat there, stunned at the flow of information he’d just given her. Then she said, “I’m sorry about your dad.”
“Thanks.”
“You and your stepmom get along?”
“We manage.” He grinned. “So, you and Nick got back together after I left?”
Monica rolled her eyes. “Biggest mistake of my life.”
“Why did you do it, then?” Don couldn’t contain his curiosity.
She looked at him, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure she would answer. “Because he reminded me of you.”
“Say what?” Don asked in an exaggerated tone. They both laughed at his reaction.
“It was pretty obvious you and I liked each other in high school,” she said.
Don nodded. “I fell in love with you the moment I first saw you.”
Monica’s eyes went wide. “Love?”
Don blinked. “Wait, you said ‘liked,’ didn’t you?” His face reddened.
She nodded and said, “Yeah, but I mean ‘loved.’ I was just worried it would scare you off. Most guys hate that word.”
“It doesn’t scare me,” he said, and to prove it, he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.
* * *
They lay in her bed a few hours later, naked and sweating. Monica had her head on his shoulder, their hands joined on his chest. Don couldn’t believe what had just happened. He couldn’t believe he’d lost his virginity to the girl of his dreams.
“That was...interesting,” he finally said.
“The best sex you ever had?”
“I can honestly say yes.” He laughed at his own joke. After a second, Monica joined him. She didn’t know she’d taken his virginity. He would tell her in his wedding vows.
Wedding vows?
Don was shocked at his thoughts. He was already planning to marry this woman. If he survived his encounter with his brother, maybe he would propose....
“What are you thinking right now?” Monica asked him in the dark, silent room.
“That I want to see you again.”
“We were thinking the same thing, then.”
They kissed.
“There’s something I have to do first,” he added quietly.
* * *
Don did not want to kill his brother, but he knew he had to. He also didn’t want to leave Monica. She didn’t want him to go, and had even held onto him as he tried to get dressed. They’d kissed at the end of her driveway for nearly ten minutes. And then he dragged himself to his truck. Driving away from her house, watching her in his rearview mirror, had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life.
And now he drove on Windsor Meadow Road, up the steep hill, past the large mound of earth he used to admire as a kid. He was so close now. He tasted bile and his ulcer flared. He was about to face his brother for the last time. “For the Longest Time” played on the radio. He hadn’t heard that song in years.
Don turned into Fairington, the sign for the neighborhood partially built. After all this time, people were still running into that thing. Don found himself studying the broken sign for too long, and realized he was stalling. He didn’t want to face Ethan...but he had to. If Don didn’t, his little brother would haunt him forever.
It had to end tonight, before Don lost his sanity. Or before Ethan stepped up his game and hurt someone else.
Don didn’t believe for a second his brother was finished tormenting him, even if he hadn’t attacked in a year. That was just the way Ethan worked, the calm before the storm. Don started driving down the endless street, passing the driveway had acted as the very first bus stop for the neighborhood back in his high-school days. If you wanted good seats, you had to be at that stop. He wondered if that was still the case today.
He turned left at an intersection, and then right. This took him past Chainsaw House and the Candy Store, two of his favorite places from childhood. He wondered if the old Asian lady still sold candy from her front door to the kids while they waited for the bus to pick them up. As for Chainsaw House, well, Halloween just wasn’t the same without those crazy old people.
The street came to a dead end, and Don was surprised nothing had been built in that patch of forest yet. It seemed like such a waste.
Again, he realized he was stalling and tu
rned left, down an even longer stretch of street. He barely even glanced at his old house on the left as he continued on down. The neighborhood felt so empty; there wasn’t a single person outside. He felt like he was in a ghost town, nearly every house with its lights off. All of the streetlights were on, however, but that only added to the creepy atmosphere.
Don slowed down as he neared the house he’d been looking for. It was a cute one-story, painted white with a maroon front door. The lights were off inside and there were no cars in the driveway. As far as Don could tell, no one was home.
The house was on his left, the same side as his old house down the street. Don parked the truck farther up, grabbed a jacket and some black gloves from the passenger seat, got out and crossed the street. He hopped the chain-link fence into the backyard, praying there was no dog. There wasn’t, so he went to the back-porch door and began to pick the lock. He had no idea what he was doing, but by some miracle the knob turned and the door opened.
He found himself in the dining room, the moonlight illuminating the floor. Don closed the door behind him and walked silently into the living room. There was a couch and TV, but not much else. He looked to his left, down a long hallway with four doors, two on each side. All were closed. The house definitely felt empty; was this the right place?
His question was answered when he saw a picture on top of the TV. There was a beautiful raven-haired woman posing with a brown-haired young man. They both looked happy.
The man in the picture was Ethan.
Don picked up the picture with a gloved hand and stared, mesmerized. It was true: Ethan had a girlfriend. How could it be? The last time Don had seen his brother was when Ethan had tried to kill him. Ethan had looked like a monster, glossy eyes and thin skin. And that jackal’s grin....
In the picture, he looked pale. The grin he wore was a tad weak, but it was definitely genuine. And his eyes were green once again. He no longer resembled the demon from a year ago.
Don set the picture back on the TV and sat down on the couch. All he could do was wait for his brother to return. He had to prepare himself for what he came to do. He suddenly started shivering, as if the house had grown colder. He knew it was just him, though. The occasional headlight flashed through the window next to the front door. Don jumped every time, wondering if it was Ethan. It never was.