by Glenn Rolfe
“Yeah.”
“Get up, Walphie,” Hank mocked.
James looked down at the turtle boy on the carpet. Ralphie’s eyes streamed tears and pleaded with him to do something.
Carrie stepped aside.
“I said get up you little shit.”
James walked past the crowd of bullies and reached a hand down to help Ralphie up.
“Hey, what the hell–oh shit, guys. Look who it is. Jamey the baby. Where’s your boyfriend, Kevin?”
James lifted Ralphie from the floor and nodded for him to move back. Without turning to face the loudmouth gang, he reached into his front pocket and wrapped his fist around the mound of change, and said, “Not sure, but I see you brought all three of yours.”
“What the hell did you say to me?”
“Look, Hank,” Tim spoke up. “Maybe he’s a bio sexual. He’s here with Kevin’s little sister.”
“Oh, hey Carrie, whatcha doin’ here with this fag. You know he ain’t got a pecker. If you wanna give out some hand jobs you can come in with me and the bo–” That was all Hank managed to spew before James, roll of quarters gripped in his fist, landed a shot on the jaw just under Hank’s left ear. Hank cried out and stumbled forward. When he turned back, red faced and ugly, James clocked him again. This time crunching his nose. Blood exploded down the front of Hank’s T-shirt.
Hank’s cries would have drowned out Ralphie’s for miles and miles.
“What’s going on over there,” Dave Eto yelled out. Dave had run the Julian forever.
James slid the roll of quarters back in his pocket, amazed that they hadn’t busted open, stepped to the side, and took Carrie’s hand. “Come on,” he said. He ushered them back toward the entrances.
“Where?”
James could see Mr. Eto peering over the tops of heads looking for the troublemakers, which now included him. The rugged, square shouldered manager’s eyes locked onto his. Ralphie Kennison stepped in the way, dropped to his knees, latched onto Mr. Eto’s legs, and whined. James ducked his head down and pulled Carrie out past a couple of tall, gangly girls he didn’t recognize.
“Come on,” James said again. “I don’t think Hank or his buddies will come after us, least not today, but I don’t wanna stick around to catch hell from Mr. Eto, either.”
They got across the cinema’s parking lot and ducked into Bilbo’s Books.
“Look at your knuckles,” Carrie said.
James hadn’t had time to notice he was bleeding, too.
“Let’s get you in the bathroom and clean that up.”
Carrie led him past the sci-fi/horror/mystery section and into the unisex restroom in the back corner of the room.
“Let me see. Here, run ‘em under the water.”
James let her clean his knuckles.
“You’re doing it again,” she said. She stared at him in the mirror behind the sink.
“What?”
“Something about that smile,” she said. She pulled his hand from the faucet and placed it just above her hip. She placed a hand behind his neck, closed her eyes, and pulled his mouth to hers.
James couldn’t help but feel like an astronaut ready to drift away.
When they got back to Carrie’s house, they found Kevin and Eric waiting for them.
“We need to talk,” Kevin said.
“Yeah,” James said. He shot Carrie a quick glance. She nodded at him then stared at her brother.
They walked silently down the street.
James rubbed his sore knuckles. Kevin glanced over.
“What happened to your hand?”
“I’ll tell you after we talk about…Carrie.”
“Yeah, listen,” Kevin started. “I’m not blind, okay, I’ve always known that she liked you and I know you’ve liked her. It’s just…she’s my sister, you know?”
“I know, man. I…”
“Shut up,” he said. They stopped.
James glanced down the block and saw Carrie and Eric had moved up to the porch.
“You’re supposed to be my best friend, right?
“I am.”
“I said shut up. I need to say this.”
James nodded.
“I think it fucking sucks that your mom made you move with her to that stupid town. I think it sucks that we lost our summer because of it. Up until you came back this week, I’ve had to listen to Eric whine and complain about dumb stuff like wrestling. Then…. then you come back and it’s awesome and we’re back, right? Then I find out about you guys…”
For a second it looks like Kevin’s gonna cry. His eyes look a bit misty, but he goes on.
“And you gotta go back to Evergreen and it all blows.”
“But I’m here now, man. I’m not gonna stop hanging out with you guys. Carrie’s always hung with us.”
“I know.” Kevin had pulled a bag of sunflower seeds from his pocket and was alternating between eating them and tossing them into the road.
“I only have these next few weeks, too. I have a crappy summer to fix. I can’t do that without you. Without us.”
“Don’t get all queer on me, Jamey Boy, Jesus.”
“Are we cool?” James asked.
“Yeah, I guess we’re cool. But no making out with my sister anywhere near me.”
“Deal,” he said.
Kevin fist bumped his sore hand.
“Ahh,” he said.
“So, what did you do?”
They started walking back.
James held up his raw, torn knuckles.
Kevin looked him over and raised an eyebrow at the surefire sign of fisticuffs.
“What happen? You cheap shot somebody?”
James reached into his pocket and produced the empty paper his quarters had been rolled in. “Hank and his retarded flock were picking on Ralphie Kennison at the theater. I wrapped my fist around this and shut his fat mouth up.”
“It was pretty awesome,” Carrie said, as they reached the steps. “James busted his nose and made him cry.”
James caught Eric’s dopey eyes drop from his to where Carrie’s arm hooked his. Carrie turned noticing James. Kevin followed suit.
“They’re going out,” Kevin said. “Ain’t like we–us normal thinking humans–didn’t see it comin’.”
Eric’s face puckered. “You guys ain’t gonna be like, making out all over the place, are you?”
“Christ, shut up, Eric. You know I think I like it when you just sit there and look dumb.”
“What? Don’t tell me to shut up.”
“They like each other. They’re gonna kiss. Besides, it ain’t your sister involved. At this, Kevin hauled his other leg back inside the porch and pointed a big sausage finger into James’s chest. “But nothin’ else. Right you guys?”
Carrie’s face flushed fifty shades of red, and James felt the heat melt his, as well.
“Are we okay?” Carrie asked her brother.
“Yeah, sorry about yesterday. I just needed to think about it,” Kevin said.
She rubbed his arm.
“He’s your best friend, I just get to kiss him.”
“Kevin covered his ears. “Oh, god Carrie, what the hell?”
She smiled and winked at James, and said, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”
James held up his hands to say I don’t know dude. “Hey, man, she’s tough. I won’t argue with her.”
“Yeah, well, she’s too big for her skinny britches. You just…” Kevin searched for the right words. “You just be cool. I know you’ll treat her good. Just be cool, man.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Yeah, if you guys start Frenchin’ while we’re hangin’ out, I’ll friggin’ puke.”
“Shut up, Eric.”
James looked at Kevin to Eric and back to Kevin and grinned. Before Eric had a chance to make a run for it, the two of them were on him. James held him in a bear hug, while Kevin drove the knuckles of his right hand and grinded them in Eric’s ribs.
“N
ooo. Nooo. Come on you guys.”
“Promise you’re not gonna say anything else stupid today?” James asked.
“He can’t do that. He wouldn’t be able to talk for the rest of the night.”
“Come on, you guys.”
“Mom said we can order pizza. What do you guys want?” Carrie said from behind the screen door. She’d changed into a Supergirl t-shirt. His arms loosened, freeing Eric from his penance.
“Pepperoni and pineapple,” Kevin said.
“With bacon,” added Eric.
“And jalapenos!” James said.
“Ugh, boys.”
Carrie disappeared from the door. “Mom, we need to get two pizzas. They want a bunch of gross stuff on theirs.”
Forty-five minutes later, they sat before the TV, Eric on the floor by the orange coffee table, Kevin in the recliner, and James and Carrie on the sofa. Kevin and Carrie’s mom ordered two large pepperoni, pineapple, and jalapeno pizzas and a large cheese for Carrie and herself. Kevin decided on A Nightmare on Elm Street for them to watch. James liked the effect it had on Carrie and had no complaints about his best friend’s choice, although the movie probably wouldn’t do much for his recent bout of strange dreams.
Chapter Thirteen
Richie sat in his chair and gnawed at his fingers, rocking back and forth, his legs crossed at the ankles. His anxiety of late came with a bad case of restless leg syndrome. Alison had to work third shift again tonight. Sometimes she took a nap before going in. He wished she’d go lie down already. His gaze drifted from the bad action movie playing on TV to Alison on the end of the couch. She had a book in her hands that she’d been buried in for the last two hours. He didn’t understand how anyone could read so much. He’d tried to get into a James Patterson novel a couple months ago, but never lasted five pages before his eyelids fell.
“You should probably get some rest before work, don’t you think?”
After a few seconds, she raised her head. “What’s that?”
“I said, don’t you think you should get some rest before work?”
Alison set the book down in her lap, put her arms out to the sides, and stretched. “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea. You hear from James yet?”
“Yeah, he’s staying at Kevin’s.”
Alison’s eye brows lifted. “Ah, is that such a good idea?”
“What? Why do you ask that?”
“Carrie?” Alison moved the book to the cushion beside her, got up, and stepped over in front of him.
“So?”
“So. They’re seeing each other now.”
“So what? It’s not like Marie’s going to let them fuck each other under her roof.”
Alison’s jaw dropped. She slapped his bouncing knee. “Richie? What the hell?”
“What? She won’t. James probably wouldn’t dare to make that kind of move, but then again,” Richie leaned forward and cupped Alison’s ass. “He is my boy.”
Alison pulled away from him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I don’t like it.”
“Oh, come on.” Richie rose from his seat and grabbed her around the upper arms. “You know…we have the house to ourselves.”
“Ugh, not right now, Richie.” She raised her hands and slapped from his grasp. “I’ve got to get some rest before work, remember?”
I’m fucking the night guard.
The voice from the other night ran up his spine.
Richie wanted to hit her. He wanted to hit her and knock that attitude right from her face. Then he’d take her right here against the living room wall. Dark images swirled through his head. Formless apparitions with one desire. She must have seen the darkness cross his face.
“I just think maybe you should call Marie and make sure she knows about James and Carrie. I’m sure she wouldn’t let them sleep in the same room. It’s just common courtesy and respectful for parents to communicate these types of things so our kids don’t end up on some trashy MTV show pregnant and resentful. It’s the responsible thing to do.”
“Our kid, huh?”
“What’s your problem right now?”
He stepped back, put his hands on his hips and shook his head.
“Yeah, okay. I’m going to lie down until I have to get ready for work.” Alison walked past him and down the hallway, and called back, “Call Marie.”
Who the hell does she think she is?
He walked to the refrigerator, snatched out another beer, and guzzled half of it down in one swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
I should have smacked her.
He shook his head, this time to eject the thought. What was wrong with him? He’d never raised a hand to Alison or any woman.
Except last night in the ladies’ room.
He remembered the things she—the other version of Alison—had said to him.
I just needed someone to fuck me like a man.
He swayed on his feet. Dropping his beer, he grabbed at the counter for support.
Some women like that kind of rough stuff.
Richie looked around the kitchen as if the thought had been spoken aloud. He stood up straight. His beer was at his feet spilling over the linoleum. He crouched to pick the beer can up and saw his reflection grin back at him from the window across the room. The mirror version was still standing by the refrigerator and wore a smirk that made Richie’s skin ripple with a hair-raising current. Crouched and frozen before the spilled beer, a tangled mix of fear and fascination waded through his foggy mind.
The reflection raised a hand and gestured for Richie to rise. He did as commanded. A strange darkness danced within his double’s eyes. The orbs looked black with a hint of fire behind them like the images James had shown him last fall of a solar eclipse. Powerful and beautiful. Overwhelmed by the vision, Richie surrendered and watched as Alison (the window’s version of Alison) appeared behind him. Richie watched her reach up and grasp his shoulders. He felt her touch. He was hard in an instant. Alison’s eyes, brimstone and fire like his reflection’s, sparkled and entranced him. A hand slipped into the front of his pants and wrapped around his throbbing member. He exploded at the touch and dropped to the floor at the sheer ecstasy. The hallway floor creaked as Richie moaned on his hands and knees, the spilt beer wetting the knees of his blue jeans.
“Richie, are you all right? I heard a thud.” Alison’s voice carried from down the hall.
Richie looked up at his doppelganger in the window. The reflection winked. The perversion of Alison leaned forward and flicked her tongue against the back of his neck. Richie shivered with her electric touch. He came again and collapsed back to the floor.
…..
Alison wasn’t sure what she was looking at or if she wanted to know. She’d been hiding in their room with her book and heard a loud moan followed by the thud from down the hall. Now Richie was sprawled on the floor totally out of it. She eased her way across the living room and crouched down next to him. “Richie? Are you okay?” He didn’t move. She noticed the beer can lying on its side and saw the mess spread out beneath him. She couldn’t leave him like this. She looked at her watch. She had to get ready soon.
“Richie, babe, can you hear me? We gotta get you into bed. C’mon.” She tried to pull at him. He was too big for her to lift. If she could get him on his back, maybe she could at least drag him to the carpet in the living room. She pushed him away from the front of the refrigerator, making space to step beside him. She dipped down on one knee and positioned herself between Richie and the fridge. She dug her hands under him, and after a bit of a resistance, managed to get him turned over, and then gripped him under the arms and dragged him to the front of the couch. Snatching a pillow from the sofa to put under his head, and the blue blanket from the back of the recliner, Alison fashioned him a makeshift bed.
“What is going on with you?” she whispered. She stroked his hair, and then leaned down and kissed his forehead.
She rushed to the bathroom, washed her hands, and splash
ed water on her face. She changed into her work uniform, threw her hair up into a ponytail, headed down the hall, and left out the front door. After dealing with this episode, she didn’t have time to shower or even to brush her teeth. Karl was working second shift. He wouldn’t balk at her for strolling in a few minutes late. He was a nice kid, if twenty-six still counted as being a kid. His only engagements consisted of sitting in front of a computer screen playing some video game. He always spoke to her about it as if she had any idea what he was talking about.
On the drive into work, she couldn’t stop thinking about Richie’s recent behavior. His drinking had been revving up the last few weeks, but for some reason, this time was different. She had been there. How did he even manage to get that drunk without her noticing? It unnerved her. They were going to have to have a conversation. He had some questions to answer. This wasn’t just about the two of them anymore. What if James had come home and been the one to find him?
She couldn’t deny that the thought of confronting Richie scared her. There had been something dark in his eyes earlier when she brought up James and Carrie. And just the way he spoke and the crude things he said made her curious. Could he be on something? She didn’t think it was possible for Richie to be doing drugs without her knowledge, but isn’t that how it started? She never knew for sure what he was doing while she worked all night. He used to pass out in the recliner watching baseball.
If Luke McGee and his construction goons had anything to do with this, she’d turn his entire pill-popping work crew in.
The lights of downtown Caleb beckoned her from the darkness of the backroads. Her phone buzzed in her lap. She reached down to see if it was Richie.
It was from Jason.
She needed someone to talk to, and that’s all this was, someone to talk to. He had tonight off, but she’d text him and see what he thought of Richie’s latest dive.
She set the phone down and glanced in the rearview mirror. For some reason she thought she’d see someone in the backseat. There was nothing. Just fading street lights.
…..
The demons had seen her, but she had not seen them. They held no power over the woman, yet, but there was certainly a weakness and a need within her, as well. Soon, she would have plenty to fear.