Gleefully Macabre Tales
Page 9
"Just make her think you want to know."
"Why would I care?"
"Patti!"
"Okay, okay. I’ll find out what I can. But I bet she hates your guts."
««—»»
"Just leave me alone, okay?"
"Are you gonna be all right?"
Patti shook her head, sniffled loudly, then blew her nose again. "How come he had to be so mean?"
"‘Cause he’s a jerk." Dennis sat down on the floor next to her, leaning against the lockers.
"All I did was ask him to dance. He didn’t have to be so mean about it. He could have just said no."
Dennis clenched his fists. When he’d seen Ted and his stuck-up friends laughing and pointing at Patti, he’d wanted to rush right over there and start throwing punches. Unfortunately, that would’ve been a good way to get killed.
Patti blew her nose once more. "Do you have another tissue?" she asked. "This one’s full."
Dennis hurried over to the bathroom to get some paper towels. When he returned, Patti had stopped crying, though her face was still red and blotchy.
"Are you ready to go back in?" he asked.
"No. They’ll just laugh at the fat girl again."
"You’re not fat. They’re just jerks."
"And I’ve got ugly hair."
"I’m not going to lie to you. You do have ugly hair. Don’t comb it that way anymore."
Patti returned his grin and got to her feet. "I’m just going to walk home, I think."
"I’ll dance with you, if you want."
Now her grin became an actual smile. "No way. I’ve seen you dance. But thanks for the offer!"
««—»»
"Dennis," said his mother, wearily, "will you please tell Patti that ringing the doorbell once is sufficient?"
Dennis got up from the dinner table and walked through the living room as the doorbell rang another dozen times. He swung the door open, and Patti burst inside, waving a piece of paper.
"I got accepted too! I just got the letter!" She shook the letter. "This one! This letter right here!"
"That’s fantastic!" Dennis gave her a huge hug. "We should be roommates."
"Yeah, right," said Patti.
"Yeah, right," his mom agreed.
««—»»
"That was weird," said Patti, breaking the kiss.
"What was so weird about it?"
"I’ve always just sort of thought of you like a brother, y’know?"
"Well, yeah, when you say something like that you’re sure making it weird."
Patti smiled and kissed him again. "It’s a good weird. How long have you wanted to admit how you felt?"
"I dunno. Months. Years."
"That was silly. You passed up on years of kissing." She kissed him once more, letting it linger.
"When do we get to do more than kiss?"
"Soon?"
"When’s soon?"
"When we’re alone."
"Will you two horndogs please go someplace else to make out?" cried Patti’s roommate. "I’m trying to study!"
««—»»
"How many times have you thrown up so far?"
"Three," Dennis admitted.
His brother Lee adjusted the tie on Dennis’s tuxedo. "Three today, or three since I’ve been in town?"
"Three today. Seven since you’ve been in town."
"You don’t have to go through with this, you know. I’ve got your escape route all planned. There’s no shame in cold feet."
"It’s not cold feet. I’ll be okay. I’m just nervous."
"You know, marriage is a serious commitment. If you go through with this, you won’t be able to get a divorce for at least six months, to avoid humiliating our family."
"I’m sure we can make it work for at least seven."
"There’ll be a getaway car all fueled up and waiting outside the chapel, engine on, just in case. If at any point during the ceremony you’re ready to bolt, give me the signal. Tap your nose with your thumb, then your index finger, then your pinky, three times each. We’ll kill the lights and get you out of there before anybody knows what happened."
"You’re a good brother."
"I know. This would be the part where I’d make some sappy comment about how lucky you are to have somebody like Patti and how I’m sure you’ll be happy together forever, if I were the kind of guy who would make sappy comments like that, which I’m not and never will be. But I will say this: If you play your cards right, you’ll probably get laid in Hawaii this weekend."
««—»»
"So what does it do after you pee on it?"
"If I’m pregnant, it’ll turn blue."
"Okay. How long does it take?"
"A couple of minutes."
"Okay."
"Should we do this?"
"Yeah. Do I need to be in there with you?"
"No, I can pee on my own."
"I know, I’m just…you know, showing support."
"We’ll be fine either way, Dennis."
"I know. Okay."
Patti stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Dennis tried not to fidget. Then he tried not to pace. Then he tried not to whimper.
The door opened.
"It’s not blue."
"Are you sure?"
Patti held up the test. "See?"
"Oh, thank God. All hail the pregnancy test! I’d kiss it but I won’t for obvious reasons. Wow, that was a close one, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Are you okay, honey? You look upset…"
««—»»
"Hey! I like that song!" Patti protested.
"Yeah, well, I’m driving, so it’s my option to turn off crappy music."
"And it’s my obligation to inform you that you have crappy taste in music."
"Duly noted. Are you sure we shouldn’t have turned yet?"
"It says six miles."
"We’ve gone six miles."
"Right before the turn we should see a—Dennis watch out!"
There wasn’t even time to swerve. Dennis slammed on the brakes an instant before the loud thump.
"Oh my God! Oh shit!"
"You hit her! You hit her!"
"Stop screaming!"
"Stop the car!"
"I am stopping the fucking car! Stop screaming at me! What the fuck was she doing out here?"
Dennis got out of the car and nearly collapsed as his knees went weak. He’d only taken his eyes off the road for a second. Not even a second. Oh God…
Patti threw open the door, got out of the vehicle, and let out a howl.
"Shut up!" Dennis shouted. "Don’t make so much fucking noise!"
"You killed her!"
"Shut up!"
««—»»
"Oh, crap, the alarm didn’t go off! I’m gonna be late for work!"
"Do you have any more sick days left?" asked Patti, opening one eye.
"No! I’ve got nothing! I’m gonna get so chewed out when I get there. Oh, jeez, I hope Stevens isn’t in yet!"
««—»»
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure."
Patti shrugged.
"It was six years ago."
"Could’ve been yesterday."
"Well, it wasn’t yesterday. We never got caught."
"That’s not the point."
"We can’t let this destroy our lives."
"You don’t even seem upset. You never seemed upset."
"I think about it every day! Every single day!"
"She was only five."
Dennis sighed. "We didn’t do it on purpose. She shouldn’t have been out there! It’s not like I’d been drinking or was speeding or anything."
"Then why didn’t we tell anyone?"
"Shit, Patti, we’ve been through this!"
"I know."
"Do you want to go to the cops now? Is that what you want? I’ll do it! I’ll call them right now!"
"No."
"Then what’s wrong?"
>
"I’m allowed to be upset that we killed a little girl! You might have gotten over it, but I haven’t! So I apologize if it inconveniences you that sometimes I feel sad about it!"
Dennis sat down next to her on the sofa. "Oh, Christ, honey, I’m so sorry. Let’s talk about it, okay?"
««—»»
"This show sucks," said Patti.
"So why are we watching it?"
"I dunno. Nothing better on."
"You’re right. There’s nothing good on TV these days."
"That’s a sign of getting old, you know."
"What is?"
"Complaining that there’s nothing good on TV."
"Crap. I’m old."
"Yep."
"Fetch me my colostomy bag."
"Fetch your own, Oldie."
««—»»
"What were you doing?"
"I wasn’t doing anything! Who said you could just barge in my office without knocking?"
Patti grabbed the faded newspaper clipping out of his hand. "Why do you have this? Why the hell did you keep this?"
"I…I don’t know. I just did."
"I saw what you were doing!"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"You most certainly do know what I’m talking about!"
"No, I don’t. I was just sitting here looking at it."
"While you fondled yourself!"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I saw you, Dennis."
Dennis shook his head. "Maybe I had my hand in my lap. So what? I have my hand in my lap all the time. Jesus Christ, what kind of sicko do you think I am?"
"That’s what I want to know."
"Look, honey, yes, I kept the newspaper article without telling you. I’m sorry for that. It’s just…it’s just the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, and I need to remind myself about it sometimes."
"You need to remind yourself? The last thing in the goddamn world I need to do is remind myself! Are you scared that you’ll actually forget what we did? The memory isn’t enough for you?"
"You don’t understand."
"No, I don’t."
"Just calm down. I apologize for keeping this from you. But I swear to God, whatever you think you saw me doing, you imagined it. You’re really distraught. Why don’t I get you a drink?"
"I don’t need a drink! I need an explanation!"
««—»»
"Oh, yeah! Oooh, that feels great. Oh, damn, it feels too great—slow down!"
"Mmmmmmm-mmmmm."
"I can’t hold out any more…this is it, baby…"
"Mmmmmmmmmm."
Dennis collapsed onto the bed, gasping. "Wow. That was…wow."
"Happy 40th birthday, stud."
"Thanks."
"Does Patti ever do that?"
"Not anymore."
"Too bad for her."
"Can we not talk about Patti?"
"It’s your money. We can talk about whatever you want. What do you want to talk about, birthday stud?"
««—»»
"This is the best spaghetti you’ve ever made."
"Is it?"
"Yeah. Did you use a different kind of sauce?"
"No, same stuff as always. But I bought the ground beef from that new place next to work."
"That must be it," said Dennis, taking another huge bite. "It’s delicious."
Patti beamed. "Well, thank you!"
««—»»
"Where were you today?" Patti asked.
"At work. Where else would I be?"
"They said you called in sick."
"I didn’t call in sick; I had an offsite meeting. Who did you talk to?"
"A couple of people."
"Who?"
"It doesn’t matter. Where were you?"
"At a meeting in the other building! What are you doing checking up on me?"
"I wasn’t checking up on you; I was calling you."
"Well, I don’t know who gave you incorrect information, but you need to be less paranoid."
"I know about the other one."
"What?"
"I found the pictures."
"I don’t know anything about any pictures. There’s nobody else, honey. I love you."
"You know what I’m talking about. And I know about the car you stole. Please don’t lie to me."
Dennis was silent for a long moment. "Are you going to call the police?"
"I don’t know what I’m going to do."
««—»»
Dennis lay in the motel room’s uncomfortable bed, eyes closed.
He smiled as he remembered the sound of the car hitting the little girl. He’d been horrified, but excited at the same time.
And then the little boy.
Only two. That’s all he’d killed.
He could’ve killed more. He could’ve killed a lot more. Didn’t she understand that?
I love you, but if I ever see you again, I’ll call the police. Bitch. He could call the cops on her. She’d kept the first one a secret, just like he had. Nice surprise she’d get, if the cops showed up at her door asking about poor Bethany Taylor.
He relived Bethany’s final moment over and over, thanking God that his bitch wife wasn’t around to walk in on him.
««—»»
"Fifty isn’t too old to be a new bride!"
"I’m fifty-one."
"You’re barely fifty-one. Do you love him?"
Patti nodded.
"Then reel this one in, fast!"
"I’m still not sure."
"Well, I’m sure, and as your best friend I know what’s best for you. Say yes. He’s a total sweetie and he treats you great."
"But he’s fifteen years younger than me!"
"So what?"
"It’s weird!"
"He’s thirty-five years old! It’s not like you’re marrying a kid! It’s time for you to be happy again, Patti."
"You’re right."
"Of course I’m right."
"I’ll call him now."
"Don’t call him. Invite him over. I’ll leave."
««—»»
Dennis wiped the blood from his nostrils as he looked through the shattered windshield. The little boy was running off to get help.
Shit…
Dennis had swore he’d never do it again, both to Patti and to himself. And he meant it. He had his memories.
But he’d been driving, and the little boy rushed onto the edge of the road to grab the basketball, and—
One quick swerve.
The boy had been quicker.
Dennis had been going about thirty miles per hour when he struck the parked truck, and he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. He’d bashed into the steering wheel with his chest and the dashboard with the forehead.
He’d live.
Maybe.
But he sure wouldn’t stay awake much longer.
He reached for the glove compartment. It would be bad, real bad, if the cops saw the pictures inside.
He lost consciousness before he could open it.
««—»»
Patti sat on her bed, staring at the newspaper clippings. Dozens of them. The oldest was from six years ago. The newest was from this morning’s edition.
Dozens of children.
Dennis had been in prison for the past seven years. She never visited him. She’d barely left the house since the trial.
Charles begged her to seek help, but she couldn’t.