The Punished

by Peter Meredith

  The words seemed to stimulate the mouse, who began whispering louder, "Do you see that? Do you see that? Do you see that?"

  Paul pulled back on his face with both hands to stare at her. He looked crazy to Curt, sadly so. In a second, Paul got up and left, whispering an argument to himself.

  The mouse went on speaking very low between bites of food, but her words changed, "I didn't do it. It wasn't me."

  Now it was Matt's turn to stare at the mouse and as he did, he slowly went green beneath his injuries. He too soon left. With just the three of them Curt worried that the mouse would begin repeating Miss Feanor's last words, but Amber cut in and stopped it before it could happen.

  "Shhhhh," she hushed the crazy eyed mouse.

  "Shhhhh," whispered the mouse right back. Relieved Curt smiled at the blonde girl and for the rest of the meal they took turns whispering this to the mouse. It turned out to be a nice breakfast after all. And a filling one.

  Eventually the mouse finished eating and dutifully or perhaps habitually, she proffered her empty bowl towards Curt for inspection. He nodded feeling very much like an imposter and she scooted away. Now Curt finished also, but being famished as a wolf, he shared Paul's untouched bowl with Amber and then ate the remainder of Matt's breakfast as well. The food wasn't particularly good, though it was better than the day before, still he felt full for the first time since they ate McDonald's on the day the caseworker had died.

  Oddly, that day seemed like a long time in the past. As if it had been quite a few months ago, which was strange to him. Curt almost asked Amber how long she thought it was, but just in time, he remembered that Darla had been her caseworker.

  As he ate, he noticed Amber giving him a shrewd look and as soon as he finished, she pulled him up and headed for his bedroom.

  'What's your plan to escape?' She gestured the second they walked through his door. Escape came out run away, but he understood. He gave her a little shrug. Even with the knowledge of certain doom hanging over their heads, he was reluctant to mention his idea. It was just such heinous scheme.

  'No. You have a plan to escape. I know you. Now don't lie to me.' They sat on his bed with their knees touching and she eyed him very closely. When he started to shrug a second time, she pinched him hard on the leg.

  'Ok, ok!' he motioned with a hint of anger clouding his face. Slowly, he told her his plan, mostly through gesturing but also with mouthed words and a whispered one here and there as needed. As he explained his corrupt idea, he pictured the black of the basement and the hideous form of Mrs. Havacheck within it. He imagined the great fear erupting in the mouse's eyes as the thing materialized in front of her. It made him queasy, the oatmeal shifting like a heavy weight in his stomach.

  Curt was glad when he finished.

  Amber's face had darkened as he went on and he felt sure that she would look upon him as if he were a more of a murderer than he already was, but when he finished she grimaced and then nodded.

  'It's a smart plan. It might work,' she gestured.

  Curt shook his head and explained precisely why it wouldn't work, but she was quick to respond, 'Even after last night? I think that the monster will start to kill soon. Matt has to see that,' her hands said.

  'Matt no hear plan from me,' Curt motioned.

  'I could say that the plan was my idea,' she replied, her hands moving excitedly.

  Frustrated with his poor sign language, Curt whispered, "Will he believe you?" Her face fell, which was answer enough. They sat in silence for a while, each trying to come up with a plan.

  'Maybe you could tell Paul and get him to understand that it is important that Matt thinks the plan comes from Paul and not you.' Her hands were such a blur that he had to have her repeat it a second time before he understood.

  'Me?' he asked mouthing the word. 'What about you?'

  Amber shook her head, 'No it has to be you. He thinks that I am...stupid.'

  'You no stupid...' he began to motion, but she cut across him by grabbing his hands.

  'It has to be you. I will show you the proper way we talk with our hands before you try.'

  3

  For the next few hours, she drilled into his head the correct movements to explain his plan. Curt agreed with the necessity of doing it right the first time since Paul could slip in and out of sanity very quickly. When he had shown her twice without a single mistake, she gave him a quick kiss for good luck and pushed him toward Paul's room.

  The plan nearly ended right there. As Curt slid up the blonde boy's bedroom door, he heard a very light whispering. Cautiously he poked his head through the slightly opened door.

  "My name is Paul. I am Paul. My name is Paul. I am Paul."

  The boy sat upon his bed rocking back and forth whispering the words to himself over and over again. Both of his thin hands held his face in a sad attempt to end the twitching, which alone would have driven Curt crazy. The spectacle stopped Curt in his tracks and for a long miserable time he could only stare at Paul, feeling his heart peeling away, exposing his soul to the boy's pain. It hurt to see this and tears of sympathy clouded Curt's eyes and eventually he sniffed, somewhat loudly.

  Paul reacted with a start and turned toward Curt with deep-rooted fear in the black pits of his eyes. The boy mumbled something that Curt didn't catch and went back to rocking, casting suspicious glances in the direction of the doorway every few seconds.

  "Paul?" Curt whispered gently.

  "We're busy...go away," was hissed in his direction.

  Curt almost did, too. His plan depended on Paul just as much as it did Matt, but it depended on a sane Paul. A lucid Paul who was capable of listening to instruction and following orders without having to consult with all the voices in his headfirst.

  But Curt felt the situation dire enough to make the attempt anyways. Walking very near to the blonde boy on his bed, he whispered, "I have a plan to escape, and I need your help."

  Now this caught Paul's attention in a flash and his eyes went wide despite the muscle spasms. Paul hopped out of bed and slid quietly to his door where upon he made a series of jerky movements, bobbing his head about to look up and down the hallway. It was an odd motion as if the boy looked not only for people lurking about but perhaps mice as well. Minutes passed in this manner and Curt began to feel as though his plan was without hope when suddenly the older boy shut his door. He then darted around his room, again looking for mice or so it seemed.

  Finally, he moved back to Curt's side and holding his face with one hand, he asked, 'What is the plan? What is the plan?' with the other hand.

  Curt began his series of gestures and he went far slower than he had practiced, because he could barely concentrate. Paul's twitch slowly became a horrendous thing to look upon and by the time Curt had finished, it took the poor boy two hands to hold even a single eye open.

  "Beth?" Paul asked sadly, when Curt had finished. "Really?"

  Paul's words had been loud and Curt gave him a small yet gentle, "Shhhh." He nodded his head, sad as well, 'Yes, Beth. It has to be her. Do you understand why?'

  Paul nodded slowly, but then spoke savagely in whisper, "We can't trust him. It's a trap. You know it's a trap. I know it's a trap...everyone knows."

  Curt stepped back alarmed at the quick change that had come over the boy. 'It no trap,' Curt tried to gesture, but Paul had turned away, sliding along the floor to his bed. There he commenced to rock back and forth again, and worse he kept up the running argument with himself, which was becoming quite heated.

  The air in the room started to become thick with the house's anger and Curt knew that if Paul kept this up any longer the creature would be loosed upon him soon. Horribly, a part of Curt wanted to leave Paul to his punishment, knowing that it would mean another day that he'd not have to suffer through it himself.

  "It's not a trap," Paul said and for a moment Curt hoped that the real Paul was beginning to take over and Curt moved closer to the bed, but then the boy continued to talk, "I know it is a
trap and don't call me a turd...I'm not a turd! I'm not! You are. You're the turd." This last was practically screamed.

  Curt stepped back, anxious to run from the room yet he couldn't leave his one time friend like this. Therefore, he jumped full upon Paul. Now Paul was a good five inches taller than he, but so skinny was the boy that they were roughly the same weight and what's more, Paul hadn't eaten an actual meal in the last day and a half. So, in a flash, Curt had the boy gripped from behind and he slapped a hand over Paul's mouth.

  "Shhhh," he warned in the boy's ear. Paul tried to twist away, but Curt wrapped his legs around his slim waist and held tight."Stop it or the creature will be here in seconds. Is that what you want?"

  Paul shook his head under Curt's grip and went limp, defeated. They sat this way for nearly a half hour as the house slowly, very slowly began to settle down.

  When he thought it safe, Curt whispered, "Did you feel that? The house is very angry..."

  "It's your fault," Paul hissed the accusation. Now it was Curt's turn to feel defeat and he let go of Paul fully and climbed off the bed.

  'I know it is,' he motioned. 'That is why we have to leave. Can you talk to Matt?'

  Paul nodded glumly, 'Yes. He will be very angry with me.' Curt nodded and Paul went on, 'But will the plan work?' Curt nodded again as if he knew for certain that it would. In truth, he had no idea.

  "You know we can't trust him," Paul suddenly said, dashing Curt's hopes. "Don't call me that. No you are..."

  Curt watched for a few seconds as the boy began to hiss at himself before he turned and walked away.

  Chapter 28

  Hide And Seek...Games Children Play

  1

  He pointed in the direction of Paul's room and waggled a finger around his ear, shaking his head sadly, 'It didn't work. Paul's too crazy.'

  Amber nodded her understanding and looked glum, but also pensive and distracted. It was the feel of the house. Paul's argument with himself had really stirred it up and it was difficult to think past the fact that at any moment the creature could come up from its dirt tombs. Curt understood completely and gave her a quick kiss before giving her a little shove toward her room.

  She would go hide there he knew, beneath her covers. All day long, if she had to, despite the fact that she had spent the greater portion of the last day and a half there. Curt couldn't do that. He was too impatient and his muscles hadn't yet atrophied and still bounded with unused energy. Instead, once he was alone, he sat on the floor and began to stretch.

  As he pressed his body lower, feeling the pull of his muscles, he could sense the anger in the house easily through the wood. Forcing himself to ignore it, he worked his body harder, realizing that he missed exercising. It felt good.

  That Paul had ceased arguing with himself, was evident simply by the fact that the creature never came charging up the stairs and eventually, after a very long but, unknowable time, the house grew more settled. Amber came back to his room in the late afternoon, which was a good thing because Curt had begun to feel terribly lonely. The hours spent by himself were like a punishment and rather than just sit there, he had ghosted through the house as he had the day before only to see the other children lying under their blankets.

  It was déjà vu all over again.

  The sight made him melancholy and he began to blame himself once more for their predicament, when Amber came in and saw this, she attempted to bolster his spirits. She tried smiling, a big toothy grin. It was a sweet attempt, but the smile never came close to touching the fear and anxiety behind her eyes. Clearly, she was afraid of the coming night and with good reason, he thought.

  The creature was sure to attack again; he could feel it in his bones. His face sank deeper into a sad puppy dog look and then so did hers. Now it was the thing about Curt to be naturally contrarian and so when he saw her growing sad, he suddenly felt the need to pep her up. First, he tried a big smile, which failed. Then, he pulled a series of silly faces, but perhaps due to his still bruised face, she just looked a little repulsed.

  Finally, he moved in closer and gave her face a great wet lick. She giggled and tried to pull away which only made him want to lick her all the more. At last, he pulled back from her glistening face and smiled at her in a genuine way.

  'How do I taste?' she asked with her hands, while a big smile played about her lips. 'I haven't showered in a few days.'

  Curt pretended to get sick and she swatted him playfully on the rear. Now that she had mentioned not showering, he realized he hadn't bathed in a few days himself and he gave his own armpit a tentative sniff and immediately wished he hadn't.

  'I stink!' he told her. 'I bathe in sink. Wait here.'

  She waved him away while holding one hand over her nose and it was her turn to pretend to get sick. As he left he gave her a little kick.

  Curt washed in the sink, he would freely admit to being simply too afraid to use the shower since he could picture finishing up and pulling back the curtains only to see the creature there waiting for him. The thought was too much for him. The sink would do just fine either way, he had bathed in sinks for most of his life and had never given it a second thought.

  But he gave it a second thought that day and bathed with the door cracked open, while keeping a finely tuned ear turned toward the hall. And it was a good thing that he did too, for just as he was finishing up, he heard the light swish of footsteps in the hall. They were moving away from him toward the back stairs and quick as a wink, Curt had his shirt back on and slid noiselessly after.

  When he peeked around into the hall, he saw that it was Paul. The older boy was moving with a jerking fashion rather than the nice slide step that kept them all relatively quiet. Even going down the stairs he was loud, hitting those spots that were guaranteed to produce a crreik. All of this worried Curt and he slunk after, stopping just shy of the kitchen on the back stairs.

  From the room, he heard a tiny whispering but it was too low to make out anything. Knowing that movement attracted the eye, Curt, with great patience, inched his head very slowly around the corner.

  "What?" Matt whispered to Paul. The eldest boy's brows furrowed in irritation beneath the swelling and discoloration, he appeared frazzled and Curt could see a spill of rice on the counter and floor. It made him realize that it was indeed dinnertime, in fact likely well past the time. Paul couldn't have picked a worse moment to make the attempt at explaining the plan, if indeed that was what he was doing.

  Paul, sweating in fear, started gesticulating quickly, while he mouthed words at rapid pace. Even Curt, who knew the plan, became swiftly lost with all the movement and Matt didn't seem to be following along much better. But something he did catch was the word escape.

  'Are you talking about trying to run away?' his hand motions were hard and fast. Tension pulled the muscles of his face back and he looked so fearsome with his swollen and bruised skin that Paul stopped his hand movements in a wink.

  'No.' Unbelievably Paul began to deny he had ever mentioned anything. 'No...I just wanted to know when dinner was so I could run down here.'

  Matt moved with viper swiftness and pinned Paul to the wall, 'Stop lying. You said you had a plan to escape.' He was able to convey this one handed, while the other twisted into Paul's turtleneck.

  'No...I....' Paul could think of nothing else to say and now his twitch took over his face completely, effectively blinding him. Because of this, he missed the next series of motions from Matt, who was forced to speak.

  "You were planning to escape! And you were going to throw Beth down into the basement?" Matt hissed into the boy's ear, causing Paul to cringe. "What kind of bastard are you? Is this really your idea?"

  Gallantly the blonde boy nodded. "It can work. We can get out of here for good."

  "Smashing in one of the windows? You tried that once before and you didn't even scratch it." Now Matt leaned in very close, but despite that, he still whispered loud enough for Curt to hear him, "I said there would be no escape and
here you are trying to do just that. You are going to be punished and I think it is fitting to do to you, what you were planning on doing to Beth."

  "No..." Paul whined miserably, like a wretch.

  "Yes," Matt said. "And I think we should do it tonight. Right at bedtime, you'll go into the basement."

  Paul went wild with fear, but being blind, it was easy for the larger boy to hold him down and he ended up cringing on the ground, "It wasn't my idea! It was Curt's. He made me tell you it was my idea. He made up the whole plan. He said we could finally escape. Please not the basement. Don't do that to me."

  "That's what I thought," Matt replied slowly. "Where is he?"

  Curt watched in astonishment as Paul, though completely blinded by the muscles holding his face twisted as a Halloween mask, pointed right at him.

  2

  Curt leaned away out of sight of the doorway, and in his fright, he leaned too far and fell back onto his rump. He tried to scramble up but his limbs seemed to be moving, not only independently from each other but at cross-purposes as well and after a few seconds, he hadn't moved even three stairs. Now Matt would be on him for certain and an odd sort of depression sprung upon him so that Curt sagged weakly.

  It was useless, he couldn't fight the older boy, this he knew for a fact and that knowledge sent the last of his hope flitting away from his soul leaving him feeling empty inside. With nowhere to run, Curt gave up and lay there on the stairs awaiting the inevitable, but the inevitable seemed to take longer than he thought it would.

  A few minutes passed as he lay there and Curt was beginning to wonder where Matt had got to when he heard Amber give a little shout.

  "No! You can't."

  Curt spun around in an instant, shooting up the stairs on all fours, quiet and quick as a leopard. With his breath still light, he paused at the top of the stairs, but due to the way the hall jotted at each door, he couldn't see the length of it. So he stepped into the hall using the angles to keep from being seen. Moving with utter silence along the hall, he darted his head around the wall and saw Matt standing not fifteen feet from him.