by Matt Drabble
Michael groaned internally; there was nothing that made him more uncomfortable than having to discuss his work with readers. Whether it was receiving praise or criticism, he was still British to his core and his natural instinct was to hide away from any kind of dissection of his work.
He held up a hand as Thom’s mouth started to move, silencing him.
He took off the ear protectors, plucked the MP3 player from his pocket, turned off the music and pulled the earphones out. His head rang with the sudden quiet.
He massaged his ears as they recovered and he watched as Thom waited patiently and politely.
“Sorry, Thom, couldn’t hear a thing.”
“What are you listening to?” Thom asked.
“Ride the Lightening,” Michael said, waiting for Thom to ask who the hell that was.
“Metallica, cool,” Thom nodded.
Michael reappraised the kid; if he appreciated the classics then he undoubtedly deserved an autograph and a quick chat at the very least. “What have you got there?” He pointed to the book.
Thom dropped his gaze, embarrassed. “I dug this out of the attic the other day and gave it another read.”
“What did you think?”
“I liked it better this time around. The first time I read it, I found it a little slow and a touch boring.”
Michael smiled at the honesty. “How come?”
“I guess that I’m a little older now. I kind of like books to treat me like an adult.”
“That’s good. As a writer I always feel that writing a book is a kind of partnership; after all the work that I’ve put into a story, it’s only fair that the reader puts a little effort in too.” He watched as Thom took in the theory and processed it, nodding slowly. “So, what can I do for you today, Thom?”
“I just wanted to say thanks for the other day.” He jerked his head towards the Beaumonts’ house, “You know, with the sheriff.”
“You know that you shouldn’t have been in there, Thom,” Michael said seriously. “What were you looking for?”
“I don’t know,” Thom said, blushing.
“Yeah, I think you do.”
“I just wanted to see the scene, you know. I mean, I read about death and horror all the time, I just thought that it’d be cool if I could see an actual site where it had happened.” Thom’s words grew faster as he spoke. “I mean, nothing ever happens here, you know; sometimes I feel kind of … kind of...”
“Smothered?” Michael said, remembering Janet’s own words and his own thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“You know, there are worse things in life than living in a boring town; you’ll find that as you get older.”
“I remember. We used to live in LA, and I thought that I’d never miss that kind of excitement, sirens and flashing lights. Don’t get me wrong,” he added quickly, “I’d never want to go back there, but this is just so the other end of the scale.”
Michael laughed. “I know what you mean. When we first moved here, I thought this place was perfect; now, I’m starting to go a little stir crazy.” He viewed the boy a little differently now; he was obviously smart and capable. Whilst the sheriff had scared him badly, he’d still returned to the scene of the crime, or at least next door to the scene. “So what did you see?”
“Sorry?”
“In the Beaumonts’ bathroom?” Michael asked seriously. “Did you see anything, feel anything, a drop in temperature, strange lights, smells, or anything weird?”
“Afraid not,” Thom said, a little disappointed. “Nothing until that big ape grabbed me.”
“Shame,” Michael grinned. He leant towards Thom and whispered, just in case Emily was within earshot. “A little real life ghost hunting could have been interesting.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Emily opened the diary and started to read; the day passed quickly around her as she promptly became engrossed in the scribbled contents.
SUNDAY 15th- the house is beautiful and the town is as well. Matthew keeps pinching me every time that I tell him I can’t believe it’s all ours; he’s such a dork sometimes, but I love him just the same!
Emily read through the moving day thoughts. It was eerily reminiscent of her own first day in the house and their move in general. It was a time of wonder and nervous excitement. She skipped ahead through the pages, ignoring the growing heat, and the discomfort of her pregnancy temporarily forgotten as she delved further.
MONDAY 23rd – first day dawning. As I write this, Matty is showering; if I wasn’t so nervous, I’d jump right in there with him ha, ha! School starts in a couple of hours. I walked past the building yesterday. Looks nice, hope it is.
Just back home. School was good; kids are great, so much better behaved than back home. Met SJ today. What a bundle! I’m exhausted just thinking about her! The new boss is a little strange though, seems a bit creepy!
Emily smiled to herself; it would appear that she and Jessica had more than a little in common. If she’d kept a diary herself, it would read very similar to this one.
She scanned through several pages; it seemed very much the ordinary ramblings of a happy and contented woman settling into a new life.
She was starting to grow a little bored with the diary now. When she’d pried the book loose from its secret hiding place, she’d been excited at the possibility of its contents. Now she found herself flipping through pages of picnics, gardening, and house arranging. The humidity of the hot day was beginning to bother her again as her interest waned. Suddenly, a word leapt from the page in bold capitals.
MONDAY 27th- PREGNANT!!!!!!!
Emily found herself staring at the word; first the same house, then the same job and now a pregnancy thrown into the bargain. It all seemed a little too coincidental, but what it meant she could not tell.
She checked her watch absently; crap, she thought. She was running late for work. She jumped up as quickly as her enlarged frame could manage and waddled to the door.
----------
“Who was it?” Sheriff Quinn demanded again, his voice rumbling low with menace and barely suppressed anger.
Deputy Kurt Stillson took a step back from the intimidation; the sheriff was a huge man who seemed to enjoy his physical superiority over everyone in town.
Kurt had just finished his written report into the graffiti vandalism and the escaped perpetrator, and his head still rang from the thrown paint can.
He wore a large plaster over the cut and a bandage over the swelling. He’d been popping Excedrin all morning but they weren’t making much of a dent and Quinn’s yelling was only making it worse.
“I already told you, sir,” he tried again, “I couldn’t see a face. Whoever it was, they were wearing black and had their face covered.”
“You must have seen something, for Christ’s sake!” Quinn yelled even louder, his face purple and bloated with rage.
“Jesus, it was just a little paint; what’s the big deal?” Kurt flapped his arms in frustration.
Quinn was on him in a flash. Kurt found himself lifted by the collar and thrust painfully back against the wall.
His head banged backwards on the venetian blinds and his wounded head sang out joyfully. Quinn’s face was millimetres from his and the sheriff’s eyes blazed with a venomous fury that bored deep. Kurt’s whole body was being lifted with incredible effortless power.
“I’ll find out who did this, you little shit. This is my town. My fucking town,” Quinn spat in his face.
“Boss?”
Kurt looked over the sheriff’s massive shoulders and his knees went weak with relief. Tommy Ross, his fellow deputy, stood in the office like a guardian angel.
His voice brought Quinn back a little closer to his senses and the strength weakened from his painful grip.
Kurt found his feet flush on the floor again and the sheriff took a step backwards; the rage in his eyes ebbed away and returned to a state approaching normality. He smoothed out Kurt’s shirt where it had been rucked
up and pulled free of his pants.
“Sorry about that, Kurt,” Quinn said, sounding vaguely apologetic. “We just care passionately about this town, is all. Zero tolerance means zero tolerance.”
“S-S-Sure,” Kurt stammered. “No problem.” He was doubly grateful for Tommy’s intervention and Ellen’s absence from her office post this morning. He wasn’t eager for her to see him manhandled like a rag doll.
“We’ll get this bastard together, right, boys? No one is going to put a dampener on this year’s festival,” Quinn proclaimed.
“Sure, boss,” Tommy answered, his voice a little unsure.
“Yeah, right,” Kurt followed, regaining some composure.
Kurt watched thankfully as the sheriff eased his large frame out of the office and off duty. He looked at Tommy and they both waited until the purr of Quinn’s car started up and pulled away.
“What the fuck was that, Tommy?” Kurt asked, somewhere between shock and anger.
“He just gets a little carried away with looking after the town, Kurt. Forget it,” Tommy said, turning away and busying himself conveniently.
“That’s easy for you to say, pal. It wasn’t you that he just threw around the room. I thought he was going to kick the crap out of me.”
“Ahh, don’t get carried away, Kurt, you big girl. He just grabbed you a little, that’s all; he wouldn’t have really hurt you.”
“I’m not so sure. He looked pretty serious to me.”
“Nah! Just the same though, we ought to catch this new scourge of Eden, just to be on the safe side,” Tommy teased. “You know, before we find you buried out back in a dumpster,” he grinned.
Although from Tommy’s tone it was obvious that he was joking, Kurt couldn’t have felt less like smiling.
----------
Emily left her lunch largely untouched as she poured through the diary. The teachers’ lounge faded into the background behind her as she read through the thoughts of Jessica Grady. The diary was thick and had begun in an optimistic fashion; the writing was clear and concise with the neat strokes of an ordered mind.
The Gradys had moved to Eden and had been delighted with the hospitality shown to them. Jessica spoke in glowing terms about the town and the people. Jessica had been the woman who had come to Eden much as Emily had.
She had worked at the school as a teacher the same as Emily; she had lived in the house before Emily, and she had fallen pregnant as had Emily. The similarities were staggering and more than enough to make Emily feel a little uncomfortable.
If she had read these facts in one of Michael’s novels then she would have told him that the reader would immediately begin hoisting the red flag.
She had read through the diary with increasing speed and was disturbed to find that Jessica was becoming more and more uneasy with her surroundings.
Her writing was starting to unravel a little; the handwriting was growing scruffy and the spelling uneven. She skipped through long-winded passages of abstract thoughts, searching for anything pertinent.
The lounge was empty this lunchtime. Sarah-Jane was in her classroom glued to her cell phone, talking in hushed tones to Dr Creed; their budding relationship was gathering at a deepening pace. SJ positively glowed whenever the subject came up in conversation.
Emily had gently probed around the edges but Sarah-Jane was charmingly coy at the very nature of their romance.
Mrs. Thirlby was on recess duty today, leaving Emily alone, for which she was grateful. It seemed that every time that she turned around, the headmistress was staring at her with a strange expression.
Emily knew that her emotions were a little out of whack lately due to the pregnancy - Dr Creed had assured her that it was all perfectly natural - but that didn’t make it any easier for her - or more so Michael - to live with.
Travelling to work in the mornings on the tram had become an uncomfortable ordeal. She was sure that the gazes were all a little too intent and she thought that she could see hidden whispers on every face. Eddie, the regular tram driver, always seemed to linger his eyes over her swelling figure with an almost ravenous glazed glare. The other regular passengers also all seemed to covet her with envious, hungry eyes.
For the fourth time in the last ten minutes, she checked the corridor to make sure that she was alone.
She felt a deep instinct to keep the diary hidden; whatever lay inside the scribbled pages were for her eyes only. Once she was sure that she was unobserved, she opened the book and continued reading. Jessica was becoming more paranoid and Emily was uncomfortable at the similarities that she began to see in herself.
THURSDAY 6th – Thirlby is all over me at the minute; every time that I turn around she’s there, creepy-ass woman! School is becoming a real drag, just so damned tired all the time. Matty keeps nagging at me to go back to the doctors, but Dr Lempke seems as weird as the rest of them. You can’t swing a cat for hitting some concerned neighbour; need a holiday!!!
MONDAY 10th – Casper came to the house today, spoke to Matty for what seemed like ages, took him aside so that I couldn’t hear. Matty said that it was nothing, but he seemed strange afterwards, wouldn’t talk about it.
FRIDAY 14th – Had a long talk with SJ today after school was out today; don’t know what I would do without her, she’s my rock. Feel like I can tell her anything and she won’t think I’m nuts!
Emily checked and reread. Sarah-Jane had told her that she did not know Jessica very well at all and yet Jessica was calling her “her rock”. A little troubled, she read on.
SJ told me to be wary of Thirlby. I pressed her for details, but she just seemed scared of our boss. For one second, I thought that she was going to tell me, but then Thirlby appeared like magic and SJ looked terrified. I always thought that Thirlby was a little creepy, but she scares the life out of poor SJ. What is it with this damned “Woodland Festival” anyway? Everyone is going nuts over it.
TUESDAY 18th – Matty dragged me to Dr Lempke this morning. I hate that guy - he’s always poking and prodding, doesn’t seem to care about me at all, and he’s only ever interested in the baby. I’m starting to feel like a delivery truck where everyone only wants the package inside. Matty thinks I’m paranoid.
THURSDAY 21st – Darnell, the handyman, kept looking at me strangely today when he came by to clear some hornet nests out of the garage. I’m a little over three months along now and showing; the freak kept staring at my bump the whole time.
MONDAY 24th – I AM NOT GOING CRAZY. Matty keeps telling me to go back to Dr Lempke, but I’m not letting them pump me full of anything else; the pills that he keeps giving me make me feel just tired and foggy all the time. He says that they’re only vitamins, but I don’t believe him. I don’t believe anyone at the minute.
SUNDAY 30th – SJ came by today. She said that she’s worried, but I could see it in her eyes - she’s one of them now, or maybe she always was; the whole town must be in on it. I told Matty that I’m leaving, with or without him. I have to get my baby away from here.
TUESDAY 2nd – It’s Thirlby, I just know it. I caught her snooping around my bag at school. I’m sure that I’ve seen her following me around town; can’t think straight sometimes, but I’m sure that I keep seeing her face around town.
WEDNESDAY 3rd – They want my baby, they want my child, I can feel them waiting, and I can feel their eyes everywhere. They’re all in it together. I can hear them whispering as I walk past. Matt wants to have me committed. I fear they’ve got him too. I fear they’ve got everyone. They dragged me out of the school today when I started freaking out. I know that Thirlby has something to do with all of this. I’ll get that bitch!!!
SATURDAY 7th – I can’t stay awake. Someone must have slipped me something. My head doesn’t work too well … can’t think straight … sleep, now. Sleep.
Emily struggled to understand the writing as it slurred and scribbled incoherently as Jessica’s mind wandered.
SUNDAY 8th – Got To leave today, got to go now, g
ot to escape, everyone will be at the Woodland Festival tonight, the whole town should be there, got to take this chance, it might be my only one.
The writing ended suddenly. Emily swiftly looked up from the book; she could feel her space being invaded and she spun around quickly from the sofa and looked up into the face of Sarah-Jane.
“What’s that you’re reading?” SJ asked a little too casually, her eyes narrow and watchful.
Emily’s first thought was to hide the diary and deny its existence. A stab of fear shot through her guts at Sarah-Jane’s interest. She quickly scolded herself. This wasn’t Thirlby - this was her friend.
“Can I ask you something, SJ?” she said gently.
“Sure,” Sarah-Jane smiled.
“How well did you know Jessica Grady?”
“I told you,” Sarah-Jane said, avoiding her gaze, “I didn’t know her really at all.”
Emily passed her the diary and watched as Sarah-Jane’s face fell and darkened with desperate unhappiness. SJ scanned through the pages quickly.
“Oh,” she said sadly.
“Well?” Emily asked.
“Jess was a deeply troubled woman, Em.” Sarah-Jane’s words were slow and awkward; her normally pleasant and cheerful face was creased with concern. “After she got pregnant, she started going a bit…, a bit strange.”
“How do you mean?”
“She started getting paranoid. She was convinced that the whole town was staring at her. She thought that everyone was talking about her; it was downright weird. Did you ever see the Truman Show movie with Jim Carey?”
“The one where he lives on a reality show, only he’s the only one who doesn’t know it?”
“Yeah. She started to think that the whole town revolved around her. Like we were all standing and waiting for her to walk past before we’d move. It started to get pretty scary. She freaked here at school one day. She thought that the kids were all robots with cameras for eyes. Mrs. Thirlby had to call the sheriff in and Jess was taken to the hospital, kicking and screaming. The poor kids were terrified.”