The police inquiries, though, were never official. If they had found some evidence, taken him away from her, perhaps things would have been made right with the universe. It was the police’s job to help her! After all, she had no choice but to protect him. They should have been able to see the monster he was… is.
Girls missing. Murdered. Not only girls. But in Malachi’s teens, she could see his lust growing, and there was no denying the number of missing young girls wherever they lived. His appetite was strong then. Out of control. Although he never caused her physical harm, Ruth was terrified.
“Remember, I love you, Mother. And you must love me too. I am your only son now.”
These words echo in her head today. Reverberate. Crash. Consume her. Three times. Six.
A tear gravitates toward Ruth’s chin. She does not wipe it.
Across the hall, a nasally voice mumbles over a static-filled intercom. Ruth cannot understand it, but she already knows what it says. 6pm. “Visiting hours for the B wing of Shepherd Psychiatric Hospital are now over.” She has no visitors. She has never had a visit. The announcement means nothing to her.
Ruth sits up in the straight-back chair and adjusts the buttons on the front of her blouse. She glances at the calendar on the wall across the room. December 2011.
She has felt safer in this place. Lonely and still frightened, but not like before. Life on the outside seems overwhelming. The thought of it sends a cold spinal-tap chill down her back.
In those days, she’d remained fearful. Of the police, of her son, for her son. And for herself. But the real horror fell upon the residents, especially young women, of Valley Village. Surely, Malachi was their tormentor.
“… three, four, five… caught a hare alive…” These words in the voice of a young child taunt her, filling the room. She glances around the small square that seems to move in on her. There is a sudden rip through her hair at the base of her neck, hard enough to pull her head into the back of the chair. No one looks at her; her tiny yelp doesn’t seem to draw any attention. Gripping the chair with both hands and pulling herself up again, she looks for the culprit, slowly, so she is not caught off-guard. She knows what she is looking for. Perhaps not exactly, but she knows.
When it seemed the killings had stopped, the dreams had begun. Not simple night terrors, no. That would be too generous to the mother who’d created a monster and released him upon the world.
Ruth is visited by these women in the least-expected daylight hours. Their presences are what had brought her here, to this hospital, in the hope she was simply crazy and had been wrong about her son. But now she knows she is not insane.
These tortured women live in the world of darkness and enjoy opportunities to sneak out of it. They appear to her, accusing, blaming her, hating her for birthing such a creature into the world of light.
Disfigured, discolored, bloody, dirty are these once-beautiful women. Destroyed and condemned by Malachi.
A pleasant woman’s voice speaks to her. “Ruth, Doctor Eli will see you now.”
Smiling, Ruth shakily stands.
“This way. Room number three.”
The attractive nurse, probably in her early thirties, with long dark hair and green eyes, leaves Ruth alone.
A moment later, before any further thoughts can ravage her mind, the doctor is in front of her, putting his hand on her shoulder.
“Ruth, how are you feeling today?” His tone is thoughtful, perhaps overly so. It seems forced, yet his face is kind.
“I feel fine, doctor. Thank you.”
“Any nightmares or visions since we last spoke? Any contact from your son, or anyone else not actually present?”
“Of course not, doctor. I’m not crazy.” A weak smile crosses her thin lips.
“I’ve never thought that, Ruth. I just want to be certain you are feeling as you should.”
“Normal?”
“There is no such thing as normal, Ruth. You know we don’t use that word here.”
“Maybe you should.”
The woman finds her mind somewhere else. A damp sugar cane field. She is surrounded by it. Suddenly, only inches from her face, Stephanie Sheets appears. Ruth knows the young lady’s features from the newspaper and from past experiences with her. Sometimes the women speak to her. They speak with their minds, giving her their thoughts directly from their brains to hers. Stephanie, however, does not speak.
Stephanie is horrific: blackened eyes, green veins at the surface of her skin, jaw slightly askew. She hovers close enough for Ruth to whiff her putrid odor. A swollen, blackened tongue thrusts itself in Ruth’s direction, and Stephanie hisses something inaudible. This is the sound Stephanie makes when she visits: angry hissing.
These women disturb Ruth, but they no longer frighten her. She accepts that this is their revenge. They deserve it. It is her reckoning; she deserves it. At various times she has thought of them as heinous gifts from her son, because of her close bond with Malachi and her inability to break it.
She knows these women will never let her go. They know she has a conscience. It is unlikely that Malachi can conceive of the existence of a conscience. It is therefore unlikely they will ever be able to exact their revenge directly upon him. Ruth wonders if she truly deserves this punishment, but she accepts it.
“So, Ruth, how do you feel about the prospect of leaving our facility in a few weeks?”
“I’m sure I feel fine about it, doctor.”
Ruth suddenly jerks her hands up from her lap. One of the women, or someone, has pulled on two fingernails so hard there is a thin line of blood at their nailbeds. She conceals her bloody hands and looks at the doctor.
“Sorry, got a chill.”
“You seem to be looking and feeling well, Ruth. We’ll talk again next week.”
Ruth nods and glances around for the one who pulled at her nails. She searches her brain, trying to recall a victim whose nails were ripped away. She cannot. Perhaps it is simply a premonition and has not yet occurred?
She and the dead Stephanie Sheets exit, cross through the waiting area, and enter the corridor to return to her room. Room 33, with its white sheets, white walls, and bright lights, which are turned off at 8pm. Then, there is only darkness.
***
In the year 2002, the local newspaper of Mt. Vernon, Texas ran an article on its front page. The headline read: Missing Twin Found Dead. Further details read: “Michael Andersen was found in a wooded area not far from the home he shared with his mother and twin brother. It seemed apparent he had slipped on wet plant debris and hit his head on the root of a large oak tree. Tragic.”
Then the decision. A choice.
Ruth had known she must return home for help. It wouldn’t be easy. Malachi couldn’t know, couldn’t suspect, couldn’t sense. And he hadn’t.
In a small room in the back of an antique store in Algiers, Louisiana, Ruth nervously pulled back the flimsy curtain.
“You’ve considered me dead, Annie Ruth, ever since you birthed those mongrels. But I smelled you coming.” The old lady eyed Ruth. A pink paisley scarf lay knotted on her head, and long fingers with jagged nails the color of blood wrapped around a large deck of dragon cards.
Ruth did not stutter, did not hesitate. She straightened her body, held her head high, and spoke in a solid voice. “I’ve come for the address.”
***
“Malachi, do you remember when we first saw each other again, on Kauai?”
“Of course. You took my breath away. You still do.”
Pursing her lips together to redirect her smile, she recalls a humid day three years ago.
“Wow! What a small world! I can’t believe you live here! It must be amazing. What fortune that you would be my dive master.”
“It’s been good seeing you, Mari. High school seems like a long time ago.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“I wish you weren’t leaving out so soon.”
“Maybe you’ll come to Colorado to vis
it.”
“I hope we’ll at least stay in touch now.”
“Thank you. For all of this,” she whispers, smiling up at him.
He kisses her forehead and leans back in bed, with Mari on his chest. His mind wanders back to that time of which she spoke.
Malachi had made quite a life for himself scuba diving in the Hawaiian Islands. And hunting. Mostly women, but not always. From time to time, he liked the workout, the challenge of a man. Regardless of the sex of the game, the end result of taking a life always brought the same sexual gratification. Female tourists, though, were the most inviting targets, of course.
After meeting Mari, a would-be victim, Malachi had decided to perform a field test of sorts, to see if he could handle a relationship. Mari is sweet and kind. She seems to handle his sarcastic tendencies well, and they have some history, since they had both participated in theater in one of the many stateside high schools he’d attended. His mother had moved around a great number of times to keep him in school, until finally she had forced him to take his GED. Mari seems accepting of his troubled high school days and of what he tells her of his mother’s mental illness. He blames the moves on his mother’s three divorces, but always remembers to extend the loving son act, accepting and understanding of his mother. Mari is supportive and humble, and seems like a prime candidate for the experiment. She is lovely in every way, both body and mind. She is family-oriented and makes him feel warm.
Could she really help him change? Can he go straight?
Surely Mari suspects nothing of his past. Hasn’t smelled a hint of it. Malachi sometimes wonders if he leaves any clues Mari may home in on.
He has distanced himself from Mother, speaking to her less and less frequently, as Mari thinks Malachi’s relationship with his mother is quite odd. She has never met or spoken to Ruth directly. She only knows what Malachi has told her.
While visiting Mari in Colorado, he had decided to make an effort to abandon his natural hunting tendencies. After two weeks of Mari and her family, Malachi joined the Army. With surprising ease, Mari’s family accepted him. So did the Army.
The military seemed to be another good place to experiment. Eighteen months after boot camp, engrossed in his new language proficiencies, it seems the Army isn’t a bad place to channel a psychological disorder. Especially with a magnificent brain like his, testing off the charts. Of course, his physical condition and marksman skills are also in the top 2% of his class.
When Malachi was stationed in Monterey, Mari did not hesitate to rush out to California to be closer to him. A quaint town in the center of the state, Monterey is home to an all-branches base and many high-ranking foreign officers. Although the base is occasionally a terrorist target, Mari doesn’t seem worried about Malachi.
Malachi is thriving in this environment. Career. Girl. Life is good.
“Sure you’re comfortable with the transition out of the country?” he speaks flatly into the air straight ahead.
Mari doesn’t move from her safe position with him. “Of course. This has been the goal. I can wait a little longer for us to be together full-time. Besides, I’ll be with my parents.”
He is speaking three languages already. Russian is the language in demand for interrogators right now. His assignment will move him out of the States soon. She is willing to wait. She’s already waited, living off base while he was on it most of the time.
Both agree she deserves a fairytale wedding and a life with a husband who will spend time by her side. A couple of years will make this happen.
“I’m excited about the trip home, Malachi. Not only Christmas with my folks, but spending time with Kylie too, now that she has moved back home.”
“Your sister is strong, and your dad seems more than happy with her returning home.”
“Both my parents are totally jazzed she is moving back and leaving Leon.”
“Good.”
“You know Daddy is also looking forward to your company at the range.”
“I’m eager to spend some time with Charles as well. The only civilian I know who can sometimes outshoot me.” Malachi smirks.
So does Mari. She knows her father is more than the average Colorado gun enthusiast. He is a trained marksman, though in the private sector. A hunter in his own right, more than most people realize. Mari is hopeful Malachi intends to ask her if they can become engaged before he ships out.
Mari loves her family and is the light of her parents’ eyes. She has already spoken to them about returning home while Malachi is away. They are eager to all be together again as a family.
***
Running. Panting. No breath left with which to scream, she collapses. He is teasing her. She knows she cannot escape. She wants to give up, but she cannot. Her fear fuels her to get up and run again. She can’t help but continue to look behind her. She knows it’s slowing her down, but she prays she will no longer see the thing following her.
Looking back over her shoulder, her prayers are answered. Perhaps she will make her high school graduation next week. The ends of her lips curl upward.
The smile never leaves her face as her head is removed from her body.
He finds her spasming body orgasmic.
***
Powder on the windshield. Malachi turns on the wipers. Although not a fan of driving in the snow, he wants to please Mari and makes great effort to fulfill her every whim. She wants to drive from California to Colorado in spite of the time of year and weather. They are prepared with blankets, water, snacks, and chains.
“The Rockies are always an amazing sight.”
“I’m so glad we are able to make this trip together before you leave.”
“Thank you for talking me into driving to take in the scen–”
The back tire of the small sedan finds ice, concealed by freshly fallen snow and the setting sun.
Several minutes later, falling into hypothermia, Mari groans. Upside-down a quarter mile down an embankment, blood drips on her chest from somewhere on her body. She sees no movement from Malachi. Her years of volunteer work at the Red Cross kick in and keep her calm.
Her purse is gone. Did Malachi have his cell phone charging inside the center compartment? She is freezing. Becoming frantic, she finds his phone and dials 9-1-1 before passing out again.
It is five hours before Charles and Nina rush into the hospital. Nina’s tears have evidently been staining her face for some time.
Malachi’s greatest fear is quashed when he knows Mari is well and safe. His second greatest fear is also not realized when Charles does not blame him for the accident. Still, it nags at him, Charles’ calmness.
Malachi is convinced Charles feels secure that Malachi is always looking out for Mari, doing his best. This pumps Malachi’s ego, and he walks with a bounce in his step even though his head is pounding and his groin is, for some reason, aroused. Could he be this excited from the accident? Had the sight of all the blood done this to him?
Sexual tension cannot be ignored forever. It must be fed, drained, depleted, or it never leaves and is always there, tapping at our shoulders. Given the opportunity to freely lap at blood and organs, strip clothing, rip flesh – would anyone turn it down? Surely we all have the same demons; I am not alone. Others must be driven as well. They must feel consumed by lust, at least sometimes. I do not think it is a bad thing that I act upon it.
These thoughts have justified more than one frenzy in Malachi’s past. Irony blood spikes his arousal even further, as he finds its warmth and life nurturing, the only thing able to quench him.
***
He and Mari are warm now, even though banged up from the car’s rolling. Mari’s arm and Malachi’s head received the worst of it. With each of them tightly bandaged, relief and exhaustion set in as Charles drives them back to the luxury cabin in Bailey, where Kylie is excited for their return.
The next afternoon brings blessings to the door of the sprawling cabin, as everyone sits around the fireplace in the sparsely popula
ted area of the Rockies. There is talk of more snow. The prediction is up to 36 inches, but only one inch has fallen thus far. Snow is always unpredictable here, and sometimes this area can get snowed in for days at a time. They are prepared for the worst.
Malachi has six days before he must be back on base. Although the totaled car presents an issue, it can be worked out. He may need to call his mother, though.
A hard rap at the downstairs door causes Nina and Kylie to yelp, encouraging the tiny terrier, Harley, at Kylie’s feet to do the same. Charles disappears downstairs and reappears quickly. He approaches Malachi and places two items in his hands. Then he says something in a low voice, clapping the young man on his shoulder.
Malachi is grinning and staring at Mari. Slipping his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans, and looking up toward the ceiling, Malachi feels more emotion than he can ever remember.
He takes three steps across the room with the small box in his hand and stops in front of Mari. Bending down to one knee, he opens the box. She is flushed and smiling. Her eyes flood.
“Please, Mari Frances Christianson, make me the happiest man on this planet.”
Nodding, she wraps her arms around his neck, and he stands up to hold her. A brief kiss, and everyone is right there with them, hugging them both, filling the room with happiness and positivity.
“I feel like the luckiest man alive today,” he whispers to Mari, holding her gaze. “Thank you.”
She shyly puts her head down.
***
Sometimes her ways provoke him. He wonders why he did not kill her, rape her, or eat her in Kauai. It’s at these times that he looks around to see if anyone is watching him, if anyone can possibly see his hunger or read his thoughts. These times are not sweet and warm but aching and needful.
Sometimes he wants to literally hold her heart.
***
“Dinner was great. Thank you, Nina.”
What Goes Around Page 17