“Mind your own business, Kev,” Gabe said, not bothering to hide his amusement.
“Oh, but look at them, Gabe. They need to get laid.”
“We’re not that kind of friends,” Will said.
“That’s right,” Maggie echoed. “We’re like brother and sister.”
“Not any brother and sister I ever saw,” Kevin goaded. “At least not any normal ones.”
“So where are your ghosts?” Will said abruptly. “Shouldn’t they be interrupting dinner about now?” He glanced at Maggie and smiled. “That’s when unwanted guests always show up.”
“I thought you didn’t believe us, Will.”
“I believe you saw something,” he said, not for the first time.
“Don’t let him get under your skin,” Gabe told Will. “He’s messing with you. What he wants—as I do—is for you to see it and tell us what it really is. We’d be grateful for a rational explanation.”
“Speaking of not having a rational explanation, let me tell you about what happened on the beach today,” Maggie said. Between bites, she launched into the story of the half moon beach.
49
“Eat your peas, Daniel.” Lobelia Hatch stared hard at her son, who sat across the kitchen table.
“Mother, I don’t like canned peas. I never have, and you know that.”
“They’re good for you. Eat them.”
Shove the can down her throat.
Since walking next door for dinner, Daniel’s penis had been getting more and more irritated at Lobelia, urging him to “take care of her.” He wasn’t positive what that might mean, but had a suspicion that it meant the worst. Be quiet, he thought at his dick. “Mother, I’m thirty-four years old. Please don’t order me to eat something I detest. Why didn’t you make frozen peas instead? I like those.”
“I slave over a hot dinner for you, and this is how you repay me, Daniel?”
Fuck her right up the old poop shoot. That’ll shut her up. “Be quiet.”
“What?” roared Lobelia.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Mother.”
“Well, I don’t see anyone else here, do you?”
“No, Mother. I was talking to myself.”
“Oh. Then why did you tell yourself to be quiet? Were you thinking something rude?”
“No.” He hesitated. “Yes, Mother, I was.”
“What? What were you thinking?”
That you’re going to fuck her up the ass.
“No,” murmured Daniel.
“No, what?”
Shut up, he thought at his dick. “No, Mother.”
“No, Mother, what?” She was getting loud again.
“I don’t remember what we were talking about,” he lied. “How was your day?”
She looked a little taken aback, then sighed. “How was my day, you ask? Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, Mother.” Boy, she was bitchy today. She was never a gem to deal with, but the last week or two, she had been much worse. “How was your day?”
“You don’t really want to know.”
“Of course I do.”
“It was horrible. Mrs. Lavia next door screamed all morning.”
“Why?”
“You think I know why? I could care less.”
She can’t even speak properly, his penis whined. Get rid of her!
“It’s not like Mrs. Lavia screams on a regular basis, Mother. Maybe I should go knock on her door and make sure she’s all right.”
Mother sniffed. “I hope she’s dead, frankly. Don’t go over there. Let nature take its course.”
“Mother, what if she’s hurt? What if someone broke in and hurt her? What if she’s dying?”
“Let the postman find her when she starts stinking.”
“That’s not nice, Mother.” Daniel put down his napkin and rose from the table.
Atta boy, Daniel.
“Daniel!” Lobelia spat out the word. “You sit down, right this minute.”
“No.”
He pushed his chair in and went to the front door, ignoring his mother’s threats. He felt six feet tall instead of a mere five foot six as he left the house and walked next door to the little stucco house belonging to Minnie Lavia. The porch light was off. He knocked, but there was no reply.
Steeling himself, he walked to the back door and knocked some more. Still no answer, but he could see a light on deep inside, and the car was in the driveway. He opened the gate to the backyard and went to a window where a light glowed. There were miniblinds covering the window, but they weren’t shut tight. He put his face to the screen and peered in.
Mrs. Lavia sat in a rocking chair by her bed. Next to her was a perch for her parrot, Thoreau. Thoreau wasn’t on the perch though, he was on Mrs. Lavia’s shoulder, his body angled so that he could reach her face. Daniel knew she liked to feed him peanuts from her mouth. She’d hold them between her teeth and he’d snatch them. It looked like that was what they were doing. Tentatively, Daniel rapped on the window. “Mrs. Lavia?”
Thoreau turned to look at him, a big shiny eyeball hanging from his mouth. Daniel fainted.
50
“William,” said Gabe. “William is your real first name?”
“Nope.” Will sipped his wine.
“Wilson,” tried Kevin. “Wilmer.”
“No and no.”
“Willem?” Kevin persisted.
“No.”
“It must be something awful. Is it awful?”
“I don’t think so. Do you think so, Mags?”
“No, I think it’s a fine name.”
“You know, Maggie?” Kevin asked. “What is it?”
“I’m sworn to secrecy.”
“Then it’s awful,” Gabe decided. “If he swore your silence, then, I’m guessing it’s Wilbur.”
Maggie giggled.
“Willllburrrr,” Kevin intoned in Mr. Ed’s voice. “What’re you doin’ back there, Willllburrrr?”
“It’s not Wilbur.”
“Wilberforce.” Gabe again.
“I love that,” Maggie said. “Don’t you, Will?”
“It’s a name that forces a person to smile, though he doesn’t know why. But no, it’s not my name.”
Kevin scrinched up his face, making a rat face. “Willard. That’s it. No wonder you won’t tell. Named for a rat.”
“Sorry.”
“Wilhelm,” Gabe said. “That’s my final guess.”
“That’s it,” Maggie said solemnly.
“I’m afraid so,” Will agreed.
“Oh. My. God.” Kevin’s eyes widened. “They named you Wilhelm? What’s your middle name?”
“Wilhelm.”
“You’re real name is Wilhelm Wilhelm Banning?” Kevin asked excitedly. He’d gone a little heavy on the wine.
“Actually, I was adopted. My real last name is also Wilhelm. I’m Wilhelm Wilhelm Wilhelm. So where are the ghosts? I have to go home soon.”
“Forget the ghosts. Are you really named Wilhelm Wilhelm Wilhelm? Really? That’s so cool!”
“Kevin, he’s messing with your mind,” said Gabe.
“He wouldn’t do that. He’s a psychologist.”
“Which means messing with your mind is my lifework.” Will pushed back from the table. “None of my names are Wilhelm, Kev.”
“Not even one?”
“Nope.”
“Why won’t you tell us your name? You told Maggie.” Kevin poured himself the last of the red wine.
“You’re whining,” Gabe said. “If he doesn’t want to tell us, it’s his prerogative.”
“Why not? Gabriel Hannibal Rawlins? Doesn’t it bother you that you’re entirely outed, and we don’t know Will’s whole first name, let alone his middle one?”
“Will’s out. He’s openly heterosexual.” Gabe grinned.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He looked at Will and Maggie. “What if I tell you my whole name?”
“Go ahead,” Will said.
/> “Not so fast.” Kevin finished the wine. “Any chardonnay left?”
“You don’t need more wine,” Gabe said. “You’ll have a hangover in the morning.”
Kevin sniffed. “You’re right. I hate headaches. Maggie, what’s your whole name? I’ll say mine if you say yours.”
“I thought it was my name you were after,” Will said, smiling. He had a slight buzz going himself.
“If we tell, then you have to, too.” He giggled in a way that made Will wonder if he’d get to work on time in the morning.
“And, if you jump off a cliff, I will, too?”
“Oh, your mother said that, too?” He giggled again.
“Kevin, everybody’s mother said that,” Gabe told him.
“Okay, well, my full name is Kevin Damien Bass.”
“I knew you were in league with the devil.” Maggie laughed.
“What’s your name, Maggie?” Kevin, though a lit tle cross-eyed now, gazed intently at her.
“Shall I tell him, Will?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“Margaret—and don’t you ever call me that or you’ll rue the day you were born, Kevin—Margaret Louise Maewood.”
“I like that. It’s so old-fashioned and sweet. Can I call you Maggie Lou?” Kevin dimpled up.
“No.”
“Okay.” He turned his attention to Will. “Spill it, Wilbur.”
“I’ll give you a clue. My mother loved the movie High Noon. I’m named after Gary Cooper’s character.”
“Will, darling, I’m gay. I don’t watch westerns.”
“I do,” Gabe said. “Cooper was the sheriff who saved the town.” He looked at Kevin. “You’ve never seen it? Really?”
“I like Wild Wild West reruns. Well, I like Jim West’s pants. And vests.” He giggled some more.
“Kevin, if you want to drink as much as I do, you need to gain fifty pounds,” Gabe said before returning his attention to Will. “Cooper’s character was, uh, Miller?”
“No, that was the chief bad guy. Frank Miller.”
“Will Kane.” Gabe grinned triumphantly.
“Give that man a cigar.” Will grinned back.
“Well, so, what was Will Kane’s full name?” Kevin asked. “William, Wilbur, Wil—”
“No! Don’t do it again!” Will laughed. “The character’s name was ‘Will.’ My name, therefore, is Will.”
“Just Will?”
“Yes. You look disappointed.”
“It’s like you got cheated out of some syllables. I feel sorry for you. You’re a name amputee.”
Will cracked up. “It’s okay, Kevin. I’ve learned to live with it. I even like it.”
“Really?” Kevin sounded amazed, but his eyes twinkled with merriment.
“Yes. I—What’s wrong?”
Kevin’s animated face had gone slack and now his color drained away. He swallowed and nodded toward the living room.
Will looked. They all did. Floating slightly above the floor, the specter of Carrie Cockburn held a gun. The yellow dress was coated down the middle with scarlet gore, and her head, what there was of it, was just as Kevin had described.
Will’s stomach tumbled, but he forced himself to stand up and approach the figure. His head swam as he circled the specter, thinking it was probably a hologram. What else could it be? Someone was playing a trick on Gabe and Kevin. A horrible trick. He forced himself to look directly at the head with its hanging jaw and skull shards and blood and brains.
A similar vision reeled through his mind. A memory. His ears started ringing, louder and louder. Michael! I killed you. Then black mist swirled into his vision and the world went away.
51
The detached physician part of Gabe Rawlins sat on his shoulder and told him how interesting it was to watch people react to something frightening and incomprehensible. Will had obviously been shocked, but he practically ran to the apparition, intent on finding an explanation. Will lived for explanations. If there was none, he wouldn’t rest until he came up with one that at least satisfied him. Kevin, on the other hand, stayed glued to his chair, his drunkenness a thing of the past. He was afraid. Gabe was, too, and although he’d stood up and gone protectively to stand by Kevin, his hand hugging his partner’s trembling shoulder, he wasn’t about to go any closer to that thing hanging in mid-air. The floating aspect frightened him far more than the blood and gore.
Maggie had stood up and walked to the wide arch that demarcated the boundary between the dining and living rooms. She was fascinated, the calmest of all of them. She cocked her head and stared and probably would have joined Will, but the male apparition appeared then, right at her feet. She’d looked down at the mutilated remnants of face, registering only fleeting shock before the captivated look returned. He thought she would arch her eyebrow like Mr. Spock and say, “Fascinating,” but at that instant, Will had yelled Michael! and fainted dead away. He hoped that was all it was.
“Get a glass of water,” Gabe told Kevin.
The ghost still hung in the air, but Maggie paid it no mind. She ran for Will, throwing herself down, covering his body with her own. The little doctor on Gabe’s shoulder pointed out that her reptilian brain, the most primitive part of her, made her do that. After a second, maybe less, he saw her rational mind point out that there was no danger from the apparition. She sat up and bent her face down over Will’s, checking his breathing, talking to him. For the first time, she looked frightened.
“Water, Kevin. Now!” Gabe pulled his chair back, jolting Kevin back to earth. “Bring water. Bring my bag.”
Gabe was beside Maggie in an instant. He took over. Everything pointed to a faint, not a heart attack, and when Kevin appeared with his bag, he checked more carefully, then snapped open an old-fashioned ammonium carbonate cap and wafted it under Will’s nose.
After a couple seconds, Will reacted strongly, turning his head away, eyes fluttering, then squinting. Gabe took away the salts. Will tried to sit up, but Gabe put his fingertips against his chest and Maggie positioned herself so that his head ended up in her lap. “Not yet, cowboy,” Gabe told him. “Give your circulation a chance to put more blood back in your brain.”
“I fainted?”
“Any chest pain? Arm pain? Any pain at all?”
“No. But I fainted, didn’t I?”
“Yes. Ever do that before?”
Will looked stricken. “Yeah, a long time ago.”
“What caused it? A shock or heat or something else?”
Will closed his eyes. Maggie put a cool hand on his forehead. “What caused it was seeing through my brother’s guts when he was shot. Before he fell, I saw daylight through him.”
“That explains why you yelled his name,” Maggie said gently.
“I did?” Will was fully alert now. “What else did I say?”
“Nothing. Just ‘Michael.’ Why? What do you think you said?”
Will didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally, he said, “I don’t even remember saying my brother’s name. Kevin, that water looks good.”
“Oh, yeah. Here.” Shakily, he passed it to Gabe. Maggie helped Will sit up and Gabe held the glass to his lips, but after an instant, Will took it, no less shaky than Kevin, and drank deeply.
Gabe looked at his partner, who hovered a couple feet back. The apparition still hung over them—the willpower Kevin had to have to stand so close was inspiring. Gabe smiled and winked, then said, “How about making up the guest room, Kev? Will can stay here tonight.”
“No. I have to go home. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re staying. Doctor’s orders.”
“Christ, Gabe, I fainted, what’s the big deal? Look, Maggie can drive me home; Kevin, you drive my car into work in the morning. Will that satisfy you?”
Gabe hesitated. It was probably fine, but he really didn’t want him to leave. “No, if anything else happens to you, I should be around.”
Will started looking pissed off. He got to his feet, barely touching Ma
ggie’s proffered arm. “I have to go home.”
“Gabe,” Kevin said from the doorway. “He has to feed his cats.”
“Maggie can do that.”
“I can’t leave them alone. Something scared them last night.”
“What?”
“How the hell should I know? If you had pets, you might know what I mean. Ask Maggie.”
“Animals were not normal last night,” she said. “Gabe, come here a minute.” She walked into the kitchen. He followed.
She shut the pocket door and spoke softly but firmly. “You’re not doing him any good. You’re embarrassing him. Do you think he wants to tell you how much he loves those cats? It will humiliate him, but he’ll do it if you force him.”
“Why?”
“They’re his children, and you know it. You joke about it.”
“I know. I understand, but Maggie, they’re just animals. It’s not like they’re human.”
“How can you be so stupid? They’re no different from human children to him. He’d run into a burning building to save them. In case you haven’t noticed, they’re his main reason for living.”
“I noticed. He needs a mate. He needs you, and you know that.”
“I don’t know what else he needs, but he needs to be there for his cats. He needs to protect them. Even if I was his mate, he’d care just as much about them as he does now.”
“Come on. How can you think that?”
Her eyes practically burned him. “Because I feel the same way about my pets.”
“Then why are you willing to leave them alone and stay with him?”
“You’re being a bitch, Gabe, but listen up. My animals were excited. His were terrified. Big difference. I’m taking Will home. I’ll stay with him until he’s ready to go to bed. Or all night if you think I should.”
“Yeah. Okay. Use your own judgment.” Gabe took her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Mags. I deal solely in people. I need to let what you just said sink in. I’m sorry for acting like a shit.”
“Apology accepted.” She squeezed back. “Thanks, Gabe.”
52
“It’s going better than I expected,” Pete Banning told Nedders. He was standing by his silver SUV on Felsher Hill. Not another living soul was around. Or dead for that matter, he thought, as he smirked into the cell phone. “I’ve been watching the customers, Neddy, just the few I’ve bugged already, and you know what?”
The Forgotten Page 17