Evil Heights, Book IV: In the Pit

by Michael Swanson

  "I don't see any reason,” Ted replied.

  Maggie took a sip of her coffee and looked over the rim of the cup at Lee.

  Patty was pounding her Mickey Mouse pancake to mush with her fork. “I want to go with Lee and shoot off fireworks."

  "We'll have sparklers at the Miles',” Maggie offered brightly. “You like sparklers."

  "I like the ones that shoot up high and blow up,” Patty argued.

  Maggie had already dressed her in a dress with panels of red, white and blue down the front, sides, and back, and stars and stripes along the waist and skirt. Maggie had done Patty's hair the evening before in little gold ringlets. So to protect Patty from breakfast, Maggie had draped her over with a towel. It only insured that she'd arrive at the Miles’ clean. Without a doubt, tomorrow it would be possible to look at the dress, and deduce everything she'd had to eat and drink. Her dad had helped get Patty's day off with a bright smile by saying when he sat down at the table that she was his “Yankee Doodle Dandy girl."

  Maggie reached over and retucked the corner of the towel in where it had fallen loose. “Well, I'm sure we'll have all kinds.” She pointed her fork at Patty raising her eyebrows. “You just remember you're a young lady and you're wearing a pretty dress today."

  "Mama, I don't want to wear a dress.” She looked pleadingly to her father. “Daddy, Belinda and Mary won't be wearing any dresses."

  "How do you know what they'll be wearing?” he came back. Looking up, he smiled. “They might be wearing just some old burlap bags or a couple of leather flaps like Hottentots out in Africa."

  Even Maggie grinned at this. “We're bringing your swimsuit,” Maggie said brightly. “You can spend all day in their pool if you want."

  Patty beamed, the dress momentarily forgotten.

  Maggie took her eyes off her daughter. “Sure you don't want to come, Lee? Laura asked special."

  "Nope,” Lee came back. “I'm going to Ronnie's.” He patted his pocket. “I got five bucks to spend on fireworks. We're going to have ourselves quite a time."

  Maggie took a drag off her Kool and waved the cigarette at him. “You just see that you go to Ronnie's. You know I'll be checking up on you."

  "Come on, Maggie, leave Lee be,” his dad spoke up, breaking the stare between Maggie and Lee. He slapped his hands down on the table causing the silverware to jump. “It's Fourth of July, no work, all play, all day. We're going to swim.” He tickled Patty through the towel. We're going to eat tons of hotdogs and hamburgers, and—"

  Patty interrupted, still giggling. “And daddy's going to drink lots and lots of beer."

  "Hallelujah!” Ted responded.

  After breakfast, Lee rolled his bike out of the garage, letting the door slam closed. He checked the tires’ air pressure by pushing down on the tread with his thumb, a trick he'd known since way back. Lastly, he felt in his pocket again just to make sure the five-dollar bill was still there. Then he got on, and standing up on the pedals he just rolled down the drive enjoying the feel of being so tall and gliding along. It seemed like forever since he'd last had a ride; it felt almost as good to get back on this morning as it had the very first time he'd ridden it.

  Sitting down in the seat he peddled out onto Seminole road and turned left, leaning in more dramatically than was necessary for his speed, just because it felt good to do it. He didn't immediately pick up speed. He kept his eyes on the Riley house. The front door was closed and a black wreath hung over the little window. There was a car in the driveway Lee hadn't seen before, a dirty black Cadillac with enormous fins.

  Lee peddled up the drive; standing off his bike on the walkway by the front door he kicked down the kickstand with one fluid move and left the bike to stand on its own. He stepped up and knocked on the door, and the wreath fell off its nail. He was just trying to hang it back up when the door opened, leaving him with it in his hands.

  A hugely fat woman with a mass of swirled up gray hair and a blubbery bottom lip stood before him in the doorway. “What you want?” she said threateningly.

  Lee could hear a baby crying. “I'm looking for Phoebe."

  "Hang on,” the woman turned her back on him leaving the door wide open. “Phoebe!” she hollered out, shuffling over to a sagging recliner and falling in. “When yer done changin’ that shitty diaper, there's some boy at the door to see ya."

  Lee could see inside. The small combination living and dining room was a filthy mess. The floor was littered with toys, clothes, and a brown, half eaten apple core lay near the door. There was a small T.V. in the far corner with draped flags of aluminum foil hanging off the rabbit ears. The picture was flipping wildly. The horizontal lines slowed to a stop. For a moment the wavy outlines of some snowy figures could be briefly seen. Then it fell back into its spin.

  The woman who'd answered the door had picked up a bag of potato chips from off the floor and set it down on her stomach. She had truly enormous thighs and hanging off the backs of her arms were these immense fleshy bags, which appeared to be filled with cottage cheese. She was intent on what ever it was she was watching, paying Lee no more attention than if he'd been a bill collector. A shirtless man was lying sprawled on the couch. He had one arm over his head; the other covering his eyes and was exposing his great, hairy armpits.

  Phoebe came walking out from the hall, her hair down all about her shoulders and her bra straps showing on either side of the ribbed tank top she was wearing. To Lee she almost looked like a completely different person. She was haggard and just plain dirty and worn down, like the type of person he usually saw riding in the back of a pickup going down the highway with a couple of dogs.

  She saw Lee, and her scowl changed to a smile. Phoebe hurried over and put the bottle and dirty diaper she was carrying down on the dinette table, knocking over a cereal box. The box teetered, and when it fell it set off a chain reaction amongst the dishes and garbage piled up, which ended in a half moon of watermelon rind falling onto the floor.

  Lee had seen houses like this before. The worst being the McPherson's. It was a place that was so cluttered, if you wanted to get from one room to another, there was no choice but to weave your way through narrow pathways which led between all the junk piled up. It was filthy, and the smell, it always smelled like a soured gym locker. One time when playing over there Lee had asked to use their bathroom. After seeing what it looked like, he went back outside and peed in the tall grass growing along the side of their garage.

  Phoebe came to the doorway pulling her hair back. She reached into the pocket of her blue jeans and pulled out a rubber band, then held it in her mouth while she gathered up her hair.

  Speaking with the rubber band in her teeth she said, “I'm goin’ out front for a minute or two, Aunt Viv."

  The woman, who must be Aunt Viv, lost control of the handful of chips she was gobbling, the crumbs spilling down on her massive breasts. “God damn it!” she called out, glaring at Phoebe as if she were responsible. “Shit!” the man on the couch snorted and rolled over. She began picking at the crumbs with one hand and hanging on to the arm of the chair with the other to balance. She didn't even sit up. “Don't you go wanderin’ off, ya hear?"

  Phoebe closed the door and fell back to lean up against the wall. She let out with a tremendous exhale and wobbled her head as she wrapped the rubber band around her ponytail. “Oh Lee, are you a sight for sore eyes. You don't know what it's been like. People've been coming and going. The law has been here constantly. They've been asking every kind of question, almost like it was us who did something wrong."

  Lee put a hand down on the seat of his bike. “I wanted to say I'm sorry about your uncle."

  Phoebe cupped a hand to the side of her mouth. “Well I'm not and neither is Aunt Darlene."

  "You know I'm the one who recognized him?” Lee crossed his feet at the ankles, letting the bike support his weight. He'd seen James Dean do this pose with a motorcycle in a movie, and he hoped it made him look as cool. “I was down at the house when
they brought his body out."

  "That was you?” Phoebe peeled herself off the wall. “They said it was some boy who'd first identified Uncle Boyd, but they didn't say who."

  Lee figured she hadn't read the paper. “He looked pretty bad,” he added. “Do they know what happened to him, exactly?"

  "The man from the coroner's was here on Friday. They did an autopsy, I guess cutting him up to check his heart and stuff.” Phoebe leaned back against the wall but kept her fingers behind her butt so that she could push off rising up back and forth. “They said he was drunker than Cooter Brown. Course I could have told them that."

  Lee always wondered whenever he heard that phrase, Who the hell was Cooter Brown? Of course he didn't ask Phoebe.

  "But they didn't find out much else,” Phoebe continued. “They said he'd died from...” she paused while she thought, “...something they called a coronary trauma."

  From the word coronary Lee knew that had something to do with his heart. But trauma could have been anything. “What's that supposed to mean?” he asked.

  "We asked the guy the same thing.” Phoebe quit pushing off the wall and stood up straight, both hands going up behind her head to her ponytail. “He said that he figured Uncle Boyd must have drunk so much he might have been seeing things. You know he was drinking moonshine?"

  Lee shook his head.

  "That stuff will kill you if you drink enough of it. I've seen people get the twitch and jerks before."

  Lee almost asked her what the twitch and jerks were, but the words themselves conjured up enough of an idea, so he let her continue.

  "What it all boils down to is they think he scared himself to death. They said something in his blood showed he'd been breathing a mile a minute.” She started patting her chest rapidly with her right hand. “And then his heart just kind of exploded."

  "So they don't think it was a bum that killed him?"

  Phoebe shook her head. “I didn't go see, but Aunt Darlene told me buzzards had started to eat on him some.” She drew up her face wrinkling her nose. “You remember the buzzards we saw Sunday?"

  Lee nodded.

  "That wasn't some dead dog like you thought; that was Uncle Boyd."

  "Makes me glad we didn't go look,” Lee said.

  "Me too,” Phoebe replied.

  Phoebe again leaned back and hitched her thumbs in her pockets. “I don't know what they do or how they do it, but the man said he hadn't been shot or stabbed or strangled, or anything like that. And they said the body was all balled up like a baby."

  Lee couldn't help but imagine Uncle Boyd stumbling down Seminole Road that Saturday night. He knew first hand what it must have been like when Boyd became aware that he wasn't alone, that something was following him. As drunk as he was he wouldn't have been able to run, not like Lee anyway. Thinking about it, Lee could sympathize with what his fright must have been. He probably didn't even know where he was. Somehow, he'd ended up in back of the abandoned house; maybe thinking he could hide, but more probably it had toyed with him and driven him there. Listening to Phoebe, Lee could see it in his imagination. It had stood over the pitiful figure as he'd cried and begged. Somehow Lee could smell the sweat and the fear, and recognized the sharp odor as Uncle Boyd had lost control and wet himself. In the final moments he was so terrified he was shaking and jabbering incoherently, kicking out helplessly with his feet as the thing hovered right over him. Lee knew Uncle Boyd never should have opened his eyes. He should have stayed down and never looked up. Lee could vividly remember how hard his own heart had pounded and that sharp taste of brass at the back of his teeth the fear and adrenaline had left in his mouth. He knew he wouldn't be here now if he had stopped and looked back.

  Lee stared at Phoebe. “I think something's loose."

  "Lee,” she stared back. “You're scaring me. What do you mean something?"

  "Too much stuff's been happening,” he blurted out. “You remember when we were in the train yard. I know I kind of tried to deny it, but I knew what happened. And the other night what ever it was that scared us was in our house. It was after Patty and me."

  It all came flooding out; Lee could barely talk fast enough. “Our doors have been opening on their own. Light bulbs go out constantly. Our clothes have been tied up in knots. We get old shows on our TV that have been off the air for years. Crazy stuff like that."

  Lee paused and ran his fingers across his brow wiping back the beads of sweat. “My dad's best friend's wife, Miss Laura, she studied history in college, and she told us a story about a Yankee Captain who was stationed at the Cherry Heights after the Civil War. He was a doctor, and he did these awful things to people. He even ate people. And I think maybe Mr. Ballard's cutting the cherry tree's limbs had something to do with that Yankee captain. Miss Laura said the Captain had written in a journal about all the trees being shorn of their limbs during the battle of Gettysburg. So that's a pretty wild coincidence, don't you think?"

  Lee's eyes glazed over as he thought about it as he spoke. “You know, that Yankee captain was a doctor.” Lee was looking at his own hands, not at Phoebe. “Supposedly he liked to cut off arms and legs. We've been finding our clothes all tied up into knots. Maybe it's like he's still tying up tourniquets. I don't know.” Lee focused on her again. “Like I said, it's all crazy stuff."

  Phoebe was paying close attention, her mouth hanging slightly open, and in a display of how anxious she was she had her arms pinned to herself cupping each elbow in either hand.

  "That's not all,” Lee pressed on. “You remember Javier, the Mexican man who gave us a ride to the river the other day?"

  Phoebe nodded.

  "He told me about an evil, evil Indian who'd once lived around here. It was hundreds and hundreds of years ago. But he did lots of the same things as that Yankee Captain. He killed and ate people, mostly young girls.” Lee was becoming quite agitated and was using his hands to help illustrate everything he was saying. “Lots and lots of bad stuff has happened around here over the years. Blondie, the man who cuts the grass at the Ballard's told me about a whole family being murdered over there and no one ever found out who did it. Now, two little girls have disappeared, and one was found dead at the Falls the morning after we were on the river."

  Phoebe wore this ghastly expression. “They ate people?” Surely as an unconscious expression she chewed empty air. “You mean actually-?"

  Lee nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets. “And so now, your uncle's been killed. And I think he was scared to death by whatever it is out there. I think whatever's going on, it's not just the train yard or the Ballard house; it has something to do with all of Cherry Heights."

  Lee shook his head, possibly talking to himself as much as to Phoebe. “I know this is just a feeling, but I'm sure the root of everything is at the little house out back of the Ballard's. I can tell you straight from my gut that's where I think it all comes from. I've felt it when I've looked in the windows, and with some of the things I've seen. It's not right inside there. It's too still, too quiet, like it's not even real. But I don't think it's actually in the little house. I think whatever it is it comes up from below. Remember, I told you they built a bomb shelter down there. I bet they dug something up or disturbed something. I bet they dug into something that's been buried there a long time.” Lee didn't realize it, but he was now nervously rubbing his fingertips together. “What ever it was it had been trapped or maybe hiding. No, probably not hiding, but waiting. But it's loose now, and I think it's getting stronger."

  Lee reached out with both hands to touch Phoebe's shoulders. “I remember you saying you saw the flashes coming from our windows the night it was in our house, so that confirms I'm not going crazy. In those flashes Patty and I saw something. We saw a reflection in the glass. It was in every picture and window, but it was coming from the T.V."

  "We get weird fuzzy stuff on our T.V., too,” Phoebe offered. “Course mostly though, we can't see a thing."

  "No, no, this is different.”
Lee was again using his hands, twining his fingers in an attempt to help him describe what he was recalling. “We saw some guy, maybe that Yankee Captain; he was torturing and eating a little black girl."

  Lee drew his one hand apart from the other like he was pulling something. “He was eating her, slowly. They were in some kind of pit, and he had strapped her down to a table. And I could tell he was enjoying her fear just as much as he was enjoying her flesh. The fact that he knew she was watching him doing what he was doing is what I think he was most after. That's what it's really all about; it doesn't actually feed on the bodies; it feeds on the pain and the fear."

  Phoebe tried a weak smile. “Lee, you're really scaring me."

  "I'm scaring me,” he came back. “Remember Mrs. Ballard sitting in the little house all day? You saw her?"

  Phoebe nodded. “Do you think it had something to do with her, like it's her ghost doing this stuff now that she's dead?"

  "No,” Lee shook his head. “I've thought about all this a lot. And mostly only little, crazy stuff happened before she died. I think she was actually guarding against whatever it was, keeping it down below the little house. But every once in a while it could get out, but only for a little while. Maybe if it escaped, once it got light it had to go back. That's how it chased me down the road. And now that she's dead and there's no one there to guard the door, it's gotten loose for real. It's been held down there for a while, so now it's real hungry. And it's real mean and going crazy. I mean, to suddenly snatch a couple of little girls and to kill your Uncle Boyd, it must be going on some kind of rampage. The problem is it's impossible to figure out what it'll do next. It plays by some set of rules I can't begin to understand. And it plays for keeps."

  Phoebe moved up to him. “Lee, I need a hug."

  Lee put his arms around her. She was trembling.

  "Here I was worried about having to tell you this and now...” She pressed herself more tightly against him. “I don't know."

  Lee pulled his head back to look into Phoebe's face. “Are you crying?"