“Tell us, Dee,” Addie said.
Quickly, Delilah told them about the throw, about the Hermit who stood looking into a dark cavern that his lantern couldn’t illuminate. She kept an eye on Holly as she recounted the dream. The girl took in every word, eyes so intense that Delilah thought she caught motes of gold dust swirling through them. “And the Hermit morphed into an Indian and he showed me the inside of the cave. It wasn’t very big and it was above the ground. I had to climb up into it. But when I saw inside, I recognized the petroglyphs on the wall. A hunt.” She paused, her mind dredging up another fact. “I left the book there, under a flat rock, right under the art and I asked the long-dead artist to watch over the book for me.”
She looked at the others. “I know that sounds absurd, but I was only six.”
“It doesn’t sound absurd at all.” Abner leaned forward. “There are many caves containing glyphs nearby. Did you see anything else?”
“In my dream, the Indian pointed at the ceiling of the cave and there was art there as well. Men running. Only they were the hunted, not the hunters. There was a huge monster, like a dragon, flying after them, and killing them.”
“The Hellfire Serpent,” Abner said. “I know this place. I haven’t been there since I was a boy, but I might be able to find it. There’s a strange stone near it, two-toned. It stands like a guard.”
Shocked, Delilah said, “Yes, I remember!”
“We must go there soon,” Abner said. “Tomorrow.”
“Yes,” said Adeline, “and we must also be prepared for another attack.”
“It’s been quiet for days.” Delilah clung desperately to that fact. “It may be over.”
Adeline squeezed her hand. “I pray you’re right, Dee, but we can’t take a chance; we must be prepared.”
43
Slightly Quiet Night
Little Miss Fancy Pants is going to get hers. Oh, yessireebob, she is going to get hers. Arthur Meeks waited for the obnoxious couple - the Dixons - to exit the elevator. The man, - Dickhead - wore a safari suit and horn-rimmed glasses as he yapped about hiking up Brimstone Peak to see the ancient Indian dwellings first thing in the morning. The beehive-haired wife sported a pair of unrestrained silicone titties that stood at attention, gravelly nipples straining against her thin white top. Sugartits. They were way too big for his tastes, but fake or not, they looked good and he imagined her getting it on with Cherry Devine.
“Bellboy, let’s go,” Dickhead said. “We haven’t got all day.”
“Tick tock.” Sugartits’ glazed red lips spread in a suggestive smile and Arthur wondered if they were married or if she was a hooker.
He smiled back. “Straight down the hall to your left. Room 401.” The pair began walking as he pulled the accordion gate closed, pausing to look back toward Miss Fancy Pants’ door. Still nothing going on that he could see. The townies were still upstairs - their cars remained parked out front. What in hellation are they doing up there? Then he hurried to catch up with the Dickheads. There were asses to kiss and tips to wrangle.
Holly let herself into her dark room and jumped as something soft rubbed against her ankles. “Fluffy!” She picked up the huge orange cat and held him. Immediately, he began purring and gave her a soft contented meow.
“Did you meet Miss Annie Patches yet?” Holly set the cat down and got him a last bite of chicken from the refrigerator. She’d been a little worried, but Fluffy had either not met the ghost kitty or got along famously with her. Either way, Holly was happy.
Fluffy made short work of the food and asked for more just as someone rapped on the door. Holly looked out the peephole. No one was there. Thinking maybe it was the door-knocking ghost, she opened it and was surprised to see Arthur Meeks moving quickly down the hall. It was him! Irritated, she stared hard after him.
Suddenly, he turned, feeling her gaze. He smiled, mouth closed but wide, like a rubber-faced clown without makeup. “Hello, Miss Devine.”
“Tremayne,” she muttered, refusing to look away.
“What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” A lock of thin dishwater hair had escaped his little round cap and hung over his forehead, making him look like a gigantic ten-year-old with his pale round face and potato-shaped body. But his watery blue eyes, so light that at this distance they looked like black pupils in a sea of white, those were not childish. They were hard and bright and mean. He took a few halting steps toward her. “Can I help you with anything, Miss Devine? Any little thing at all?” His tongue poked out to lick his lips.
She didn’t answer, just stared at him, anger growing. Fluffy poked his head out of the door at that moment, rubbed against her ankle, and meowed. As she bent to scoop him up, Meeks’ pasty face turned even pastier. He turned and hurried to his room, slamming his door behind him.
“That was weird.” She kissed Fluffy’s forehead and went back into her room. “How about I go down to the restaurant? They have chicken and biscuits tonight. I’ll bring some up and we can have dinner together, okay?”
Fluffy answered with a purry meow.
“But first, I need to do a couple things.” She scooped his litter pan then took the underwear she’d left on the towel rack to dry back to the dresser. There were only two pair; she thought there’d been three; the pink pair with the embroidered flowers was missing. “Huh.” Maybe she was remembering wrong. With a sigh, she started to open the drawer.
Goosebumps prickled her neck. Something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what. The door was locked. Fluffy sat on the bed energetically cleaning his face. I’m just being weird. Holly replaced the underwear, shut the drawer firmly, then stopped.
Something was wrong.
Her Friar Tuck bank was gone. She moved the stacks of books and notepads, but the little Hummel monk was nowhere to be seen. “Fluffy?” She looked at the cat. “Have you seen Friar Tuck?”
The fluffy feline chirped at her.
“You’re a lot of help.” Holly smiled then began searching. She checked the other dresser drawers and the bureau that held the little black and white TV. Then the counters and drawers and cabinets in the kitchenette. Finally, she got down on her hands and knees and peered under the bed. Fluffy came and looked with her but there was nothing there, not even a dust bunny. She scritched him behind the ears. “I wish you’d tell me where Friar Tuck is.”
Fluffy just looked at her and when she crawled across to the dresser, he padded along beside her, talking in his funny little purr-meow. She put her head down and peered under the furniture, thinking maybe it had somehow fallen behind the dresser.
But it hadn’t. It was gone.
If there was anything that got Methuselah roaring, it was rage - and Arthur Meeks had plenty of that.
Little Miss Fancy Pants - an eleven-year-old girl, for Christ’s sake - was pushing all of his buttons … and he knew she absolutely relished his discomfort. No, his fear. Yes, fear - Call a spade a spade. But in his defense, there was something truly creepy about the little girl and her weird eyes. And when that demon cat of hers looked at him, too, he’d gotten out of there fast. He didn’t need two sets of gold eyes staring at him.
She and her damned cat were enough to scare anybody and Arthur took comfort in that. Fucking Satan’s spawn.
But he still felt like a pussy and that made him mad. And that made Methuselah throb.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the pair of stolen pink panties balled in his clenched fist. Closing his eyes, he brought the underwear to his nose and took a deep whiff. They were too clean but under the fragrance of soap, he detected the ever-so-subtle tang of sweat, of tender young skin, of virginal territory. The smell of little girls.
It was his favorite smell in the world. It lacked the yeasty, used smell of grown women. He enjoyed that, too - but not like this, never like this. Clean as the driven snow. He took another deep whiff, pushing down a giggle as he touched the fabric to the tip of his tongue. So tender, so young, yes, yes, yes. He had no memory of
setting Methuselah free, but his rigid cock throbbed hot and hard in his hand now as Meeks slowly stroked and sniffed, stroked and sniffed.
44
Cherry Picking
Holly sat at her little round dinette table finishing a plate of hot chicken and dumplings; she hadn’t eaten anything at the tea and for the first time since the Grangers died, she was really hungry. On the chair across from her, Fluffy sat neatly eating from his own plate. She’d piled books up to give him a makeshift booster seat so he had no trouble reaching his dinner. Holly smiled, watching him. “You’re so polite. You never put your elbows on the table.”
Fluffy looked at her and chirped.
“Yes, I agree.” she told him. “It’s very good. I brought extra so you can have it for breakfast, too.” She watched the cat eat, hoping against hope that he would be hers forever. It was fun knowing Miss Annie Patches hung around, but a ghost kitty was nothing like having a warm, furry cat to hold and pet.
Holly finished her milk. “I’m still thirsty, Fluffy. Are you?” She poured herself another quarter of a glass then refilled Fluffy’s saucer. “There you go.”
Fluffy gave her a chirpy meow and two long, slow blinks then started lapping the milk.
“You’re welcome.”
A moment later, she heard the elevator chime halfway down the hall. She waited, listening. After a few seconds, footsteps approached and then Arthur Meek’s voice calling, “Miss Devine! You dropped something!”
She jumped, stomach fluttering, and then realized he wasn’t talking to her.
Cherry’s back! Holly crossed to the door and stood on tiptoes to peer out the peephole. Her mother, wearing what looked like a silvery mink stole, stood at the door across the hall staring at Arthur Meeks who was pushing a pack of cigarettes at her. He fumbled and dropped them then bent down and took forever retrieving them because he was ogling her mini-skirted legs.
“You’re pathetic,” Cherry said, grabbing the smokes.
“Can I help you with anything Miss Devine?”
“I’ll call you to take my bags down when I’m ready.”
“Yes, Miss Devine. Anything else?”
She looked at his proffered paw. “Scram. I’m in a hurry.” Entering the room, she slammed the door in his face.
Holly returned to the table in a daze. “Fluffy, I think I might have to leave, but Steve will take care of you, I promise.”
The cat gave a questioning meow.
Holly’s throat felt thick, her eyes burned and tears threatened to fall. She swallowed; she didn’t want to go back to Van Nuys and hadn’t wanted to since she’d arrived. She loved it here where she had her own room, good food, and didn’t have to wash cigarette smell out of her hair and clothes every single day. She loved not hiding in a dingy corner of that stuffy, stinky studio apartment while Cherry entertained her boyfriends. And she loved her grandmother. She didn’t want to leave her, or for that matter, her new friends.
The tears streamed now and she fell onto the bed, giving herself over to them. After a few minutes, Fluffy meowed at her and nuzzled her cheek. She rolled onto her side and he curled up against her, purring and chirping, trying to tell her it would be okay, but it just made her cry harder.
Steve Cross officially came on duty only moments before Cherry Devine had flounced into the lobby wrapped in silver mink. She’d been so perfectly balanced on ridiculously high white stilettos that she looked like a ballerina on point. She’d blown him a crimson-lipped kiss as she strutted to the elevator, but returned immediately, requesting his aid.
Cherry was a poor man’s Jayne Mansfield and since that recently deceased actress had been a poor man’s Marilyn Monroe, the picture wasn’t as pretty as Cherry seemed to think. It reeked of the cheap perfume that she managed to rub on his clothing as he showed her which button to push for the fourth floor before pulling the cage closed on her. She’d given him a breathless “bye bye” then blew him another kiss before the main doors shut.
“Good riddance,” Steve muttered as the elevator ascended. He was sorry she was back. She might be easy on the eyes, but she was hard on the soul.
He watched the elevator ding up to the fourth floor then went back to the registration desk, his mind on Holly, hoping the woman wouldn’t do her daughter any damage. A few minutes later, new guests arrived, then another set, and he was so busy that an hour passed before he thought of Holly again.
Guiltily, he called up to her room and as he was about to hang up, she answered, her voice thick. “Holly? You okay?”
“Yeah.” She sounded nothing like her usual self.
“Did you know your mom is here?”
There was a long silence, then she said, “Cherry.”
“Yes. She arrived maybe an hour ago.”
“Okay, thanks.” Holly hung up.
Her flat tone disturbed him. Holly had never sounded that way before.
Cherry hummed as she folded clothes and placed them in the suitcase. It kept her calm - or so she told herself. But her mind was a busy mess. She didn’t know what to tell the kid and after overthinking it a while, decided not to say anything. This is for the best.
And then Cherry began thinking about her future with Hugo.
Cherry Todger. It had a nice ring. And speaking of nice rings … She looked at the massive rock on her finger - it would make Liz Taylor jealous. She felt as giddy as a schoolgirl.
She thought no more about Holly. Or Delilah. She had a wedding to plan.
“An hour,” Holly told Fluffy as he watched her wash her face and brush her hair. “She’s been here an hour and she hasn’t even said hello. Ouch!” She put down the brush and forced herself to carefully unsnarl the knot in her hair. She wanted to rip it out by the roots. “Can you believe that? An hour!”
Holly was trying to get angry. It was the only way to drown the sadness that had enveloped her when she heard Cherry say she’d be needing her bags taken down.
The thought of leaving Brimstone was too much. Straightening her shoulders, she stared at her reflection. “You can do it. You can tell Cherry you don’t want to go.” And then she thought of her newfound gift, wondering if she could make Cherry leave her here. She knew it wasn’t right, but she really didn’t care. I can do something for myself just this once.
“I’ll be right back, Fluffy.” She marched across the hall and knocked on Cherry’s door.
“Hold your horses, hold your horses!” Cherry called.
Finally, still swathed in mink, Cherry opened the door. She stared, mouth half open. “Hey, kid, what’re you doing here?”
“Steve told me you were here.” Holly kept her voice neutral.
“Oh, yeah. I just got here.”
Holly eyed the open suitcases on the bed, all of them nearly full. “You got here an hour ago.”
“No I didn’t. And don’t talk back, kid. It’s not nice.”
Real anger rising, Holly pushed past Cherry into the room. “You’ve been here an hour.”
Cherry shut the door. “How do you know?”
“Steve told me-”
“Steve’s a liar.”
“No, because I heard you.”
“If you heard me, why did you wait so long to say hello?”
Holly crossed her arms. “We’re leaving, aren’t we? We’re going back to Van Nuys.”
“No-”
“I heard you tell that creepy bellboy you’re going to call him to get the bags.”
Cherry stared at her and shook her head. “No.”
Something in her mother’s face cracked, softened, for just an instant. “Holly, we’re not leaving.”
“Then why are you packing?”
Cherry grabbed Holly’s hand and led her to the bed. “Come here, kid. I have news. Great news. Sit down and I’ll tell you.”
Holly sat and Cherry lifted an end of the silver fur and held it out to Holly. “Feel it. Isn’t it nice?”
Holly touched it without enthusiasm. “I guess.”
“And
look at my clothes. This skirt is real leather. Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It’s just a black skirt.”
“Feel it. It’s leather.”
Holly did as she was told. “Okay, so you have a new boyfriend?”
Cherry shook her head. “Guess again.”
“You made a lot of money on a movie?”
“One more guess.”
“I don’t have another guess.”
Cherry grinned and stroked the mink. “Come on. One more guess.”
“You robbed a bank.”
Laughing, Cherry rubbed the silky fur against her cheek.
“Better be careful, you’ll get makeup on it.”
“Who cares!” Cherry extended her left hand and shoved a giant ring in Holly’s face. “I’m getting married!”
“That’s fake,” Holly said.
“No, it’s not! It’s real.”
“Okay, so your boyfriend’s rich.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my fiancé. We’re getting married next week in New York City! He has a penthouse there.”
“We’re moving to New York?” Holly asked, unimpressed.
“He has a ranch in Sedona, and houses all over the country.”
“So where are we going to live?”
Cherry’s smile changed into something else. It was the crack again, bigger now. Holly saw darkness flit through her eyes.
“Where are we living?” she asked again.
“You, my lucky, lucky daughter, are going to stay right here in Brimstone. Hugo and I are going to go on an around-the-world vacation before we do anything else.”
“Okay. But where will we live when you’re done with your honeymoon?”
“Why, you’ll stay right here, kid. With your grandmother. I know how much you like her.” Cherry grabbed a sealed envelope from the dresser and pressed it into Holly’s hands. It was addressed to Delilah.
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