Child's Play

by Andrew Neiderman

  For a few moments she couldn’t believe her eyes when Alex held up the rope with the animal dangling at the end. It didn’t look real; it looked like a discarded toy. But when he turned to her and raised his shoulders to show his confusion, she started to scream. He put the dead animal down on the dock and came to her.

  He was affectionate; he was sympathetic, as affectionate and as sympathetic as he could be. He led her back to the house and up to the bedroom. He helped her undress and get into bed and he brought her a cup of hot milk. She couldn’t drink it, but she took the sedative and told him to draw the shades and close the curtains. He said he would go down and bury the dog.

  She asked him who he thought would do such a thing and he said he suspected some jealous children from town. He said he had plans to look into it. She said she thought he should call the police, but he said they wouldn’t treat the matter seriously enough. They’d ridicule it.

  “Don’t worry,” he told her, “the children and I will get to the bottom of this.”

  He left her. She wasn’t in the mood to go shopping with them and she certainly wasn’t in the mood to go out to eat. She needed to rest; the shock had left her trembling.

  When she awoke in the darkness, she was completely disoriented. The sleep had calmed her, but she was confused. Was it the middle of the night? The house was very quiet, but Alex wasn’t beside her in the bed. She sat up and turned the clock toward her to read the illuminated face. It was only a little after seven, but why didn’t she hear anyone in the house?

  She put on the table lamp and got up to go to the window. When she raised the shade and looked out, she saw that Alex’s car was gone. She remembered he was going to take the children shopping, but he should have been back by now. She put on a robe and went downstairs.

  It was obvious that no one had been in the kitchen to eat dinner. Everything was as she had left it. She herself was not very hungry, but she made herself some tea and toast with jelly. She was sitting at the table eating slowly and trying not to think about Dinky when she heard them all come into the house. They were more boisterous than ever.

  “Take it easy,” she heard Alex say, “Sharon might still be asleep.”

  “No, I’m not,” she called from the kitchen. They were all silent for a moment and then they came in to see her. Each of the children wore his new backpack.

  “See what Alex bought us,” little Donald said.

  “Very nice.” She looked to Elizabeth. The girl was as bright and as radiant as ever.

  “We heard about Dinky,” Richard said. “It’s a damn shame, but don’t worry. We’ll find out who did it.”

  “I don’t know why anyone would,” she said. “A helpless little animal like that.”

  “That’s who they hurt the most,” Alex said, “the helpless.” The children nodded silently, all in unison.

  She looked up at them—Alex and his litter, and for a long moment she despised their sympathy. Their carbon-copy looks disgusted her. They weren’t real; they weren’t sincere. She didn’t believe them. One of them or all of them could have destroyed her dog.

  “It was so dark last night, Alex. How did you see him go after a bitch?”

  “I saw it, Sharon. You don’t think I would lie about something like that, do you?”

  She saw the way the children’s eyes widened. Richard’s face began to harden, and each followed in turn. Would she accuse Alex of such a thing in front of them?

  “No, Alex, of course not. I’m just having such a hard time understanding why anyone would hurt poor Dinky.”

  “Evil, real evil, pure evil, is beyond our understanding. The best we can do is recognize it and destroy it whenever possible,” he said. It was one of Pa’s favorite quotes. She had heard it before. The children looked satisfied with Alex’s explanation. She wasn’t satisfied, but she didn’t want to pursue it.

  “I suppose you’re all hungry,” she said.

  “Oh no,” Elizabeth said. “Alex took us out to eat.”

  “We went to Steak King!” little Donald said.

  “Oh.”

  “Now everyone’s got to go up and do his homework,” Alex said. The kids moved obediently back through the hallway and up the stairs. “How are you?”

  “Tired. I wanted to go to dinner, too,” she said. Her words sounded so weak and small. She felt like an infant again.

  “I thought it was better to let you rest. I know how upset you were.”

  “How is Elizabeth?”

  “Fine.”

  “Did you hear anything new about the murder?”

  “No, we didn’t listen to the news. I didn’t think it was wise to dwell on it. There was enough about it all day at school.”

  “I can imagine. Do you want anything? Coffee?”

  “No. I’m just going to rest and read a little.” He stood there staring at her a moment.

  “Poor Dinky,” she said, and her face began to crumble.

  “Be strong,” he said, and then, with almost a smile on his face, he added, “as strong as Elizabeth, at least.”

  She looked up sharply, but he had already turned and started down the hall to his den and his reading and his music.

  She was intrigued about Elizabeth, and after she put away her dishes, she went upstairs and stopped by her room. Elizabeth always kept her door closed when she was in her room, and the few times that Sharon had been in the room while the girl was there she had felt quite uncomfortable. Elizabeth hadn’t been as excited about redecorating her room as Sharon had hoped she would be. The decisions were practically forced upon her. Sharon brought her the carpet samples and the wallpaper samples, but Elizabeth took forever to make any sort of decision and when she finally did, Sharon felt that she was doing it to get her off her back.

  Alex had brought up his mother’s old brass bed from the basement. He had put it in storage soon after she died. It was practically the only thing that Elizabeth appreciated. Sharon talked about getting a matching dresser and vanity table for her, but she showed no interest in it.

  Unlike other girls her age, Elizabeth had no pictures of rock stars or movie stars on her walls. The only thing she had pinned up was a small bulletin board to remind herself of things she had to do. She didn’t care for dolls or stuffed animals, either. In fact, Sharon was quite disappointed that Elizabeth showed no signs of wanting any of the dainty, feminine things Sharon loved. She wanted to give her some of her own things from her youth, but she didn’t believe the girl would care for anything of the sort.

  And so the bareness of the room, its particular lack of character and personality and Elizabeth’s own indifference to it and anything that could have been brought to it made it unattractive to Sharon. She got so she didn’t mind not being invited in. But tonight she felt a need to reach out; first, because she was curious as to how the girl had taken the murder of Mr. Knots, and second, because she felt a need for some feminine contact herself.

  She went to the door and paused before knocking. It struck her as odd that it was so silent within. Again, unlike other teenage girls, Elizabeth didn’t request a radio and didn’t play a tape recorder. Yet Sharon was sure she had done those things before she’d come to live in the Manor. This, as well as so many other things, was a result of Alex’s influence. What he liked, they liked. What he disliked, they had come to dislike, even though it was quite contrary to what children their age felt. Surely this was unnatural enough to make anyone wonder.

  “Who is it?” Elizabeth called even before Sharon knocked. Just like Alex, she thought, she can see through walls.

  “It’s me, Sharon. Can I come in?”

  “I’ve got homework to do.”

  “Just for a few minutes.”

  “All right, come in,” Elizabeth said. When Sharon opened the door, she saw that Elizabeth was at her window looking out into the night. This confirmed her belief that the girl was emotionally upset. She didn’t turn around to greet her.

  “You need more light in here, don’t y
ou? I should tell Alex to bring you a lamp.”

  “No,” Elizabeth said, spinning around. “It’s fine. If I needed it, Alex would know.”

  “Oh. I’m sure.” She hesitated because the girl glared at her so intently.

  “Was it a bad day in school?”

  Elizabeth shrugged.

  “Same as all the others.”

  “Same? But…surely everyone knows about…”

  “Mr. Knots? Yeah, everyone knows. So what?” she said, and sat down hard on her bed. She kept her back to Sharon.

  “I just thought…it must be extra hard for you, considering how you felt about him.”

  For a long moment Elizabeth didn’t respond. Then she turned slowly. Sharon saw that her eyes were red and teary.

  “Well, it isn’t, because I learned the truth about most people.”

  “What truth?”

  “That they’ll let you down; that they care only about themselves; that they’ll use you and forget you just like…just like someone eating an ice cream cone.”

  “An ice cream cone? I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you see,” Elizabeth said, raising her voice. “You won’t be any more important to them!” She turned away again. “You’re too stupid to understand.”

  “That’s not nice, Elizabeth.”

  “Well…I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You could just say that. You don’t have to be insulting. I’m not feeling so happy today either, you know,” Sharon added, searching for sympathy. “I just don’t understand why anyone would want to hurt Dinky.” Elizabeth got up and went back to the window to look out at the night.

  “Alex told you why,” she said softly. “He told you about the evil that’s out there.”

  “That doesn’t make it any easier to understand.” Sharon paused, undecided as to whether she should remain and continue to try to get the girl to talk to her or just leave and forget it. “Did you…you see Mr. Knots yesterday?”

  Elizabeth turned around slowly, her eyes small.

  “Why?”

  “I just wondered.”

  “Of course, I saw him. I had his class.”

  “You didn’t see him after school?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I stayed after to do some work in the library and then Alex picked us up. All of us,” she added.

  “You mean he picked you up at school like he did today?”

  “So?”

  “Nothing. I had thought he said…nothing,” she concluded.

  “Look, I’ve got to do my homework. This sub they got to replace Mr. Knots gave us a lot to do.”

  “Really? OK. If you ever feel like talking about it…”

  “I’ll let you know,” Elizabeth said quickly. She sat on her bed again and opened a textbook. Sharon watched her for a moment and then left the room.

  As soon as she closed the door behind her, she took a few deep breaths. It had been hard to breathe in there. She had been holding herself so tightly because Elizabeth had been very intimidating. She was full of anger and hate. Surely, she thought, this was a reaction to the death of the English teacher.

  Sharon walked to the edge of the stairway. She could hear Alex’s music coming from the den. Why had he lied to her and said that he had picked up the children on the road, coming upon them coincidentally? Elizabeth said he had come to school for them, suggesting it had been planned. She didn’t dare ask him. He’d think she was checking up on him. He already resented the fact that Tillie Zorankin had seen him with the children. But still, it made her feel uneasy. Something was playing in the back of her mind, some thought was trying to get clearly focused. What was it?

  It came to her in a flash. She went back to the bedroom and closed the door softly. Then she went into the bathroom. What was it the medical examiner had said during the interview on the radio? Something about the possibility of an air-tight bag with a tie string being placed over the head of Mr. Knots. She knelt down and looked into that small garbage can under the sink.

  But it wasn’t there now…the plastic bag she had seen there before…it was gone!

  She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was flushed. What was she thinking? What terrible thoughts was she thinking? She didn’t want to permit them entrance to her consciousness, and yet looming before her was the vivid memory of the old man’s skeleton holding the skeleton of their stillborn son in the grave Alex had made for them. All this time it had been there in the old part of the house, a part of her lying in the darkness, waiting to be discovered.

  What other horrible secrets waited in the shadows of the Echo Lake Manor?

  10

  Only moments after she got ready for bed, Sharon heard Alex and the children leave the house to go to the secret room. She went to her window and looked down at them. They were five shadows that quickly became one with the night. How could he take them to that place? Think of the effect it would have on them, especially on little Donald. Why didn’t those children have nightmares? She was sure she would.

  Alex was turning those children into something unnatural, distorting their thoughts and emotions. He had taken advantage of the troubles and the hardships they had endured. Just like his father had done to him, Alex had made these children into disciples of his own private madness. But how could she stop it? How deep had the poison already gone?

  She was frustrated and afraid. No one would understand. She couldn’t compete with Alex. In front of other people he was so pleasant and so charming. Unless someone were here with her, night and day, he or she would think her mad, not Alex. No, she had to do something by herself. The bottom line was that she had to change things. The simple truth was that despite all the good Alex apparently had done for these children, they didn’t belong here.

  As she lay there thinking about all this, she came to a terrible conclusion: perhaps it was good that their son had been stillborn. What kind of a person would he have grown to be? How insignificant her influence over him would have been compared to what Alex’s would have been. Whenever she tried to imagine what her son would have been like, she concocted a picture of a small version of Alex. She never saw her own characteristics in the child.

  Alex must have realized all this, too. It was probably the thing that had driven him to want foster children and do the things he had done with them. He needed descendants. What good were all his theories and ideas if they were going to die with him? This was something his father had passed on to him and something he had to pass on to others. Much of what Alex did was hard to understand, but she felt confident that she understood this much.

  Now the problem was what to do about it. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything about it. Maybe the children would get bored with Alex and his ideas soon. Surely they wouldn’t want to work, work, work forever. They would stray; they would have to. It was only normal. And then Alex would lose interest in them just the way he lost interest in his other projects.

  This possibility relaxed her enough to fall asleep without taking a sedative. She didn’t even hear Alex come in to bed. In the morning she heard him get up and go to the bathroom. Moments later, she got up herself. The early sunlight made it appear much later than it was. She looked at the clock and realized Alex was getting up earlier than he usually did during the week. When he came out of the bathroom, she asked him about it.

  “There’s no school today because of a teachers’ conference.”

  “So why are you getting up so early?”

  “We’ve got a lot of work to do around the Manor. The children all understand that. I thought you’d be happy about it.”

  “Oh, I am,” she said.

  “Well, let’s get going, then. We’ve got to give them a good breakfast. We have landscaping to do and the rebuilding of the gazebo and work to do on the boat dock. I want the tool shed painted, too.”

  “All right, Alex.”

  She was up and with them. Watching the enthusiasm and energy of the children, she questioned the th
ings she had felt and seen these past few days. They were so resilient, so indestructible they made her feel self-conscious about her own worries and fears. She was especially intrigued by Elizabeth, who was more buoyant and alive than ever. The belligerence Sharon had sensed in her the night before was gone. She was helpful and pleasant in the kitchen and anxious to get out and work with the others. One moment Alex could make them into morbid, sullen, hateful little creatures, and the next moment he could turn them into happy-go-lucky children living in a lollipop world. Could this be the way it was for everyone?

  Early in the afternoon, Tillie Zorankin arrived. Sharon had forgotten she’d invited her. The sight of her walking up the front pathway sent chills down her spine. Alex was trimming hedges and she stopped to talk to him. Surprisingly though, it appeared that he was being civil and pleasant to her, despite his opinion of her. Sharon came out on the porch to greet her.

  “My goodness, you weren’t kidding about Alex’s intentions, were you,” she said.

  “No. When Alex gets it in his mind to do something, nothing stops him.”

  They both stood there on the front steps gazing out at the grounds. Richard and Carl were painting the tool shed and Donald was using the grass trimmer to cut the weeds away from the trees. They could see Elizabeth down at the dock staining the wood. With the mostly sunny day, with everything blooming and budding about, the Manor took on a look of life and activity that impressed Tillie Zorankin.

  “He’s going to get it back to the way it was,” she said turning and looking at the repaired shutters, the painted trim and the newly poured front patio. “And those children are working like gremlins.”

  “I know. Would you like something, lemonade, a soda?”

  “No, nothing. I just came up to see how things were going and how you made out with the girl.”