He sat back in the chair. “Cannibal? Could he be? Doesn’t seem like him. That’s more of the Hills Have Eyes type of killer. He doesn’t come off like a people eater. But, I guess, anything’s possible.”
Scratching his head, he wondered if he should ask him about it.
The glass of soda sitting on his desk bobbled slightly. The Coke inside rippled.
STOMP! CREEAAK! STOMP!!
He was coming to the bedroom.
Joel quickly exited out of the website and closed the computer. He spun around in his chair as the door slowly opened.
His dad stepped into his room, dressed to change the oil in one of the cars. A rush of excitement cascaded through Joel, but it quickly died when the image dissolved to the maniac as being the one who was really dressed in the clothing. Joel remembered he’d left them out for him. Camo-pants, the dark blue mechanics shirt, and the burlap mask. It fit him fine around the face, but looked a bit too large for his head. The top section draped over on each side like dangling ears. It didn’t make the mask look ridiculous; it actually added more personality, more charm. He’d used the thread to loop the mask snug around his neck. The tattered tips of burlap draped his collar bone.
He looked as good, if not better, than any slasher-movie icon Joel adored. He seemed more massive, and menacing. He didn’t know whether to be amazed or frightened by him.
So far, fright had little to do with it.
“Looks good,” he said. “Do you feel better?”
Ignoring him, he walked to the upright mirror on the back of Joel’s closet, and stared at his appearance.
Joel leaned up in the chair, “Do you like the mask?”
He raised a hand to his chin, rubbing it along the burlap. It made a soft, coarse sound of friction. Then he nodded.
Unable to hide his beam, Joel allowed it to conquer his face. “I’m glad you like-”
His words were cut short by the man viciously ripping off the left sleeve of his Dad’s shirt. He tossed it aside like useless trash. The arm underneath was thickly layered with strength, and raked with surface abrasions.
He’d ripped the sleeve as easily as paper.
“What’s wrong…did you not….” Before he could finish, he’d torn the right sleeve away as well. Both arms were now exposed. Joel would have never thought it possible, but he looked even more intimidating than he had just moments ago. “Wow,” he snickered. “Nice touch…..You look….scary.”
He turned around, nodding. Obviously agreeing with what Joel had said.
“I was thinking….if you want, you could hide out in the basement as long as you’d like to…you know to recover or whatever. I’m no doctor or anything, but I can tell you got messed up pretty bad and could probably use a place to rest. My sister never goes down there, it’s a shithole. Too much junk everywhere.”
Haley.
He leaned his head back, groaning as he remembered. “Shit. My sister’s going to be home in a few hours.” The man tilted his head. “We had a fight earlier, and she told me I had to do all this yard work or she was going to throw out a bunch of my stuff.”
He exhaled a heavy breath through the mask.
“It’s okay, I have to do it. I sort of egged her on, you know. If I don’t get that yard looking good, I’m dead meat.” Joel realized his choice of words might not have been best suited for the circumstances, especially after reading that article. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to run a weed-eater would you?”
(III)
The tables inside the restaurant were full so they had been seated outside. It was a lovely day, and Haley didn’t mind a sidewalk table. She scanned the menu like a detective searching for clues. Everything looked wonderful. Wonderfully expensive. But, that didn’t matter, she wasn’t paying for it. Jonesey was.
She choked on the thought.
Jonesey. God, how’d I get here?
At least it was a chance to eat at a lovely place like Palmers. She’d driven by it many times, wondering what it would be like to eat here. She’d know soon enough, just have to put up with Jonesey for an hour.
Shouldn’t be too bad, right?
She dreaded the next hour. And, the car ride back. Her attempt to use him for a high dollar meal would undeniably backfire in her face.
As if able to sense her anxiety, he snickered.
Raising an eye over the laminated menu, she said, “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” He snickered again, sucking in his top lip, hissing air through his nose and mouth like a vacuum hose loosing pressure.
“You’re making fun of me.”
“Me? Noooo, not at all. I just wish you’d let me order for you. I know this menu back and forth.”
“True. But, you don’t know my tastes back and forth. So, I’ll order if you don’t mind.”
“Re-yawr!” He clinched his hand like a claw and pawed at her. “You’re a feisty one. I like that.”
Haley stopped herself from rolling her eyes.
She caught her smeared reflection in his menu. The smooth slant of her neck was bordered by gorgeous hair hanging perfectly around it, curving over her jaw-line, as if massaging it with the golden locks. She caught his gaze lowering to her breasts. Her shirt was low enough that he could see the top mounds of her cleavage. He cleared his throat. Sweat had beaded along his brow and hairline.
And, I’d given Carlee a hard time…
Haley sat the menu down. Noticing Jonesey was having a hell of a time adjusting his pants, she was prepared to tell him to take her back to the office. She could no longer handle his eyes staring her up and down. But, the appetizers being placed in front of her distracted her long enough to notice the waiter.
He looked very familiar. Just a year or two younger than her, his handsome face was smooth and clean. His hair, a little lengthy, hung just slightly in his eyes. He nervously combed his hand through it.
Alan Somerson. She hadn’t recognized him in the uniform. She didn’t know he worked here. Being so used to seeing him at the book store in regular clothes, the white buttoned shirt and black pants had deterred her. Not to mention the bow-tie. It looked hideous around his neck. The red apron only added to the blandness. She realized she was ogling him, and quickly tried to hide it from her lunch companion, but judging his sneer, he’d already noticed.
Alan removed a small, white pad from his apron. Then searched the other pocket, his shirt pocket, pants pockets, and couldn’t find whatever it was he was looking for.
Clearing his throat, Jonesey leaned forward. “Behind your ear, son.”
He slowly raised a hand to his ear. A pen was nestled securely behind it. Laughing, he removed it and clicked it, ready to write. “Whoops, forgot it was back there.”
She smiled at his cuteness. He hadn’t even noticed her yet and she found that just as adorable. She was extremely nervous to talk to him. It was hard to deny she had a crush on him, but normally in the book store, she had no problem keeping the conversation going. Seeing him out somewhere else made it different somehow. Glancing at Jonesey, she could see the bubbles of jealousy clucking in his throat.
“Okay,” continued Alan. “Let’s get this show going. Sir, what will you be drinking today?”
“Oh, just the house wine and the same for the lady.”
Nodding, Alan started to write it down.
“Actually,” interrupted Haley, “I’d like sweet tea if you have it.”
“Sweet tea?” Turning his attention to her, Alan’s face lit up. “Haley?! This is quite a surprise.”
Leaning closer, she said, “Surprise,” keeping it quiet as if it were their little secret.
“It’s good to see you. And yes, we do have sweet tea. The best in town. I’ve been sipping on it all day.”
“Good, sign me up.” She laughed. “I didn’t know you worked here.”
“Yeah, just a day here and there when I’m not at the bookstore.”
“Wow, you keep yourself busy.”
“Not much else to do.�
� He said with a shrug.
If Jonesey weren’t sitting across from her at the moment, she’d use this as her chance to offer him something to do, like taking her out on a date.
“Haley, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Oh right, Mr. Jones….” The way he cringed at her reverting back to the mister label did not go unnoticed, but she couldn’t care less. “This is Alan. Alan, this is my boss Jonesey….Uh--M Mr. Jones.” She bashfully laughed.
Alan extended his hand to shake, “Nice to meet you Mr. Jones.”
But, it was ignored. Sitting with his hands in his lap, he clucked his tongue as if trying to fetch something from between his teeth. “The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure.” He put on a hideous smile so bogus it could have been purchased from a store. If Haley would have already eaten, the food surely would have come up.
Alan devoted his attention back to Haley. “So, will you be coming to the weekly shindig tomorrow night?”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
Jonesey intruded, “If you don’t mind my curiosity, what’s the weekly shindig?”
Haley wished he would just go away. “Alan owns Second Chance Books, a used bookstore, and on Tuesday nights, he keeps the store open later to serve coffee and pastries to the public. It’s a lot of fun.”
“I see.”
“The books are fifteen percent off.” Alan added, “It’s a pretty big deal.”
“It’s gotten me so excited that my throat is parched. How about those drinks?”
Haley watched Alan’s smile fade. “I’ll make sure you get your drinks.” Quickly, he walked away.
“Won’t you be coming back?” she asked.
Alan didn’t bother turning around, didn’t even show if he had heard her. He just continued moving steadily through the tables.
Haley lowered her head and focused on the menu, but nothing looked as delicious as before. Jonesey had ruined it for her, hurt Alan’s feelings too. That was the worst part of it. She could go without lunch, but knowing Alan was probably upset really bothered her.
“Hmmm. Nice kid, kind of goofy, but he seems like a lot of fun.”
“Don’t you think you were being…?”
“Being what?”
“Honestly?”
He nodded.
“An asshole?”
Gasping, he grasped his chest. “Was I? If I came off that way, I apologize. Honestly, I’m very interested in books and coffee.”
“Yeah, sure you are.” Her retort sounded snottier than she’d intended.
He placed a hand over his heart. “I am. Scout’s honor.” He chuckled. “So, what time do you want me to pick you up?”
“I’m sorry?”
“For the shindig.”
“Um, I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“You’re my boss, and you’re married. You’re my married boss.”
“Listen, I just want to go to this thing and since you’ve been there before I figured we could go together and you could show me around, fill me in on the gossip and whatnot.”
“There isn’t any gossip.”
“Well, then we can just talk about us.”
“Mr. Jones, please understand, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Of course. I understand. It was just a suggestion. But, I am interested in checking it out, though. So, I suppose I’ll just meet you there.” He raised the menu, disappearing behind it.
Haley wondered if he’d notice her leaping the fence next to them and running into oncoming traffic. Maybe jump on the back of a truck, letting them take her to whatever their destination might be.
“Maybe I should order some sweet tea.” He added.
She groaned, not caring if he noticed or not. Her legs were too weak with shame to attempt an escape. She was stuck there with Jonesey for another hour, at least.
CHAPTER SEVEN
(I)
By the time Joel had finished mowing the front yard, the maniac had already taken care of everything else quickly and efficiently. Joel put the push mower back inside the shed. Then he returned the weed-eater to its rung on the wall. Finished, he stepped out, closing the door behind him. His clothes were drenched in sweat. His hair was soaked against his scalp. He hadn’t eaten anything all day and felt very lightheaded.
He found the maniac standing at the edge of the yard, staring into the woods. Joel wanted to show him the basement. After a few tries, he was able to get his attention and lead him to the side door entrance.
“The basement’s over here.” He glanced behind him. The man followed sluggishly. Joel wondered if he was tired, worried about something, or distracted.
The basement was stocked full of oddments. Old boxes had been put down there, their contents forgotten. The smell was thick, a combination of mud, rust, and dirty water. Joel walked to a corner and sorted some boxes. Sifting through old clothes, camping gear, and the tent, he finally came across a brand new air mattress still in the box. They’d bought it last summer with intentions of going on a family camping trip, but the summer had quickly gotten away from them.
He tore it out of the package and dropped it on the dirt-coated concrete floor. The included air pump was nothing more than a thin tube and footswitch. While the man stood over him, Joel inserted the tube into the air cylinder, fastened it, and dropped the switch on the floor. He stood up, stomping the pedal, and said, “I know it’s not great, but it’s the best I can do right now. I’ll sneak you some blankets and let you use one of my pillows. Sometime we’ll sneak off to the store, and I’ll get you some stuff. Can’t cost much, because I don’t have a lot of money. Sound good?”
He plodded a few more gusts of air into the mattress, removed the tube, and clamped the insertion tab into the cylinder to hold it in. He stood up with a groan. He was beat. Today had been the hardest he’d worked in a long time. Smiling admiringly at the mattress, he said, “What do you think?”
He turned around.
The man was gone.
“Hello?” He passed the water heater and stepped around a tower of boxes. The side door stood wide open. He gasped, “Oh shit, he’s gone!” Then he ran out of the basement on legs that seemed to be working against him. In the yard, he spotted the maniac standing back at the launch of the forest where he was previously.
His arms hung limply by his sides as he stared motionless into the thicket of trees. Joel approached him carefully, so as not to startle him. He wanted to say the right thing. Obviously, there was something about the woods. Either somewhere he wanted to be, or something he’d left behind.
“Is everything okay?” He didn’t respond, which worried Joel a little. He’d reverted back to the silent treatment. “Something out there that you want?”
A light shrug. Well, that’s a start. He noticed the dog tags were hanging outside of his shirt again. He took a step closer, hoping to read the name stenciled on the thin metal. Noticing his approach, the man grabbed them, and tucked them back into his shirt.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was hoping to find out your name.” Sighing, Joel adjusted his shorts that clung against his legs uncomfortably. “Do you have a name?”
He glanced down at Joel. He felt toddler-like compared to him. “Care if I come up with one for you?”
The man nodded.
“”You do care?”
Another nod.
“Oh… well…what’s your name? I can’t just call you Hey or Man all the time.”
The maniac looked around the grass, then stooped to pick up a stick. He snapped it in half, and using the sharp end, began to carve something into the dirt.
Joel stepped closer, squinting his eyes as he tried to read what he was writing. “Pillow…” He focused on the last four letters the hardest, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure them out. “I can’t tell what that says. Pillow what?”
The man tossed the stick away. He pointed at the word pillow again, then pointed at
his face.
“Pillowface?”
He nodded.
“Your name’s Pillowface?”
Standing up, Pillowface patted Joel on the back. He wanted to ask him more questions, like why was he called that, and where it came from, but decided not to pry any more than he already had.
Pillowface returned his attention to the woods.
“Are you homesick?”
He shook his head.
“Then why are we staring at the woods?”
He pointed into the trees.
“Oh jeez, all right. I’m not really sure what you’re telling me here. Do you want to go out there? In the woods?” He nodded. “Okay, we’re getting somewhere.” He nervously chuckled. “Is there something out there that you want to see?”
Pillowface shoved him. Laughing, Joel staggered back, and lost his footing. He fell on his butt, hard. “Ow…” When he looked up, he saw Pillowface pointing to the woods again. “I don’t get it…” His ass was throbbing. The fall had apparently jarred it up into his spine. Even his shoulders were hurting. Pillowface scooped him up off the ground. Instead of setting him down on his feet, he threw him over his shoulder. Then they were heading for the woods.
“Whoa, easy.” He didn’t like this, the way he was being handled. It was scaring him, though he didn’t want to admit it. He’d grown to enjoy the idea of the two of them being friends. The way he was tromping through the woods, with him dangling over his shoulder, he couldn’t help fearing Pillowface wanted to add him to his list of victims. A few months from now, someone would find a link to his own headline that read: Dumb Local boy tries to befriend Maniac!! Goes missing!!
“Hey, put me down.” He tried to sound playful, but knew his voice was too shrill for it to have been believable.
What’s he doing with me? God, he’s going to kill me. After all I’ve done for him and he’s going to take me into the woods and butcher me. Why? I thought we were friends…
PillowFace Page 7