Authors: Richard Laymon
‘I know. I’m really sorry to bother you. The thing is, I haven’t made many friends since I’ve been here . . .’
Big surprise, Dani thought.
‘And I didn’t want to be alone. Not right now.’ He looked at her with troubled, pleading eyes.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘I . . . I just found out my . . . my mother died.’
‘Oh no. God, I’m sorry.’ She stepped forward and took Tony’s hand. She guided him to one of the lounges. ‘Here, sit down.’
He lowered himself onto it and stared at the concrete.
‘Let me get you something. A beer?’
‘Okay.’
She rushed into the house, grabbed a can of Coors from the refrigerator, and hurried outside. Tony didn’t look up as she lifted her own drink from the barbeque tray and walked over to him. She gave him the beer. She sat down, facing him. His bony fingers popped the tab, but he didn’t take a drink. He turned the can slowly, staring at it.
‘Had she been ill?’ Dani asked.
He shook his head. ‘It was very sudden. A heart attack. Dad said she was just standing there washing up the lunch dishes, and keeled over. She was dead by the
time
the ambulance arrived.’ He shrugged again, and took a sip of beer.
‘That’s awful, Tony.’
‘At least . . . it was over fast. I mean, that’s better than a long illness, I guess.’
‘Yeah,’ Dani muttered. Her own parents were both alive, but she could easily imagine the devastation of losing one. She felt miserable for Tony. ‘Were you very close to her?’
‘We fought a lot. She didn’t want me coming out here.’
‘You’re from New York?’
‘Yeah. Claymore.’
‘Will you be going back for the funeral?’
‘I don’t think so. Dad offered to pay my fare, but . . . what’s the point?’ He gazed at the top of his beer can, looking forlorn.
‘Tell you what. Do you like lamb?’
‘Sure.’
‘It just so happens that I’ve got an extra lamb chop. How about staying for supper?’
‘I don’t think Jack would like that.’
‘He won’t be joining us.’
‘He won’t?’ Tony frowned as if perplexed. ‘Did something happen?’
‘He’s just got a previous engagement. He’ll be back later.’
By midnight
.
Please. For old time’s sake
.
‘Why don’t you go ahead and start the fire, Tony, while I get cleaned up a bit?’
‘Start the fire?’
‘Yeah. You know.’
‘Maybe
you’d
better do that.’
‘It’s simple. All you’ve gotta do . . .’
‘No, I can’t. I’m sorry. I’ll go away if you want, but I can’t do that.’
‘I’ll start it.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘That’s all right.’
‘I caught on fire once. That’s why.’ He pulled a leg of his black trousers up to his knee. The inner side of his calf was wrinkled and pink with scar tissue. ‘See?’
‘I’ll start the fire,’ Dani repeated.
He got up and followed her, but stood far back as she squirted more charcoal lighter onto the briquets.
She struck a match.
‘Be careful,’ Tony said.
‘I’m an old hand at this,’ she assured him, holding the flame to a coal. When that one caught, she moved the match to another and another until fire ringed the pile. ‘That ought to do it.’
She picked up the grill and set it in place. The black grease on its bars hissed and smoked in the flapping blaze.
She turned to Tony. ‘All set. Have another beer if you want. They’re in the refrigerator. I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
‘Okay.’
Nodding, she turned away from him. She used the
living
room entrance, slid the screen door shut behind her, and left it unlocked so he could come in for beer.
She hoped that was all he would do.
Under the circumstances, she expected him to behave.
She couldn’t trust him completely, though. When she shut herself inside the master bedroom, she snapped down the lock button. She closed the sliding glass door and locked it, then pulled the curtains.
Striding toward the bathroom, she saw herself in the full-length mirror – the orange bit of fabric hardly covering her pubic mound, the cord stretching around her bare hips to the brief triangle in back that left the sides of her buttocks exposed. My God, to think that she’d let Tony see her this way! And the top was no better.
The kid got an eyefull.
But at least he’d behaved himself. So far.
Hell, his mother had died. The last thing on his mind should be the state of Dani’s undress.
Entering the bathroom, she pulled at the hanging strings of her bikini and slipped it off. She climbed into the tub.
Ten minutes later, dressed in top-siders, white jeans and a silken red aloha shin, Dani left her room. She walked down the corridor, wondering if there would be time to prepare rice. That’d be cutting it close. Only an hour left before it’d be time to leave. Unless she wanted to forget about the movies. No. If she didn’t go, how would
she
ever get rid of . . . Beside her, a door sprang open. She flinched, head snapping toward it.
Tony, just inside the guest bathroom, leaped back.
‘Geez, Tony!’
He let out a nervous laugh. ‘Startled me.’
‘Yeah?’ She pressed a hand to her throbbing chest and swallowed hard.
‘I hope it was all right,’ he said. ‘I had to . . . you know.’
‘That’s what it’s for.’
As he stepped out of the bathroom, the corridor seemed to shrink, trapping Dani close to him. She turned away. Her arm swept against the wall as she started forward. Tony stayed beside her. She felt suffocated, but forced herself not to rush. A few more steps. A few more. Then some of the oppression lifted, dispelled by the brightness and open spaces of the living room. She felt as if she could breathe again, but Tony’s presence in the house still felt wrong.
He shouldn’t be in here.
Not with Jack gone.
‘Did you get some more beer?’ she asked.
‘Yes. Thank you.’
‘Well, let’s see how the charcoal’s doing.’
Tony hurried across the living room and slid open the screen. As Dani stepped through, he moved forward and she brushed against him. She pretended not to notice. She felt relieved to get outside.
At the barbeque, she saw that the edges of the fresh briquets had turned gray. She lowered a hand close to
the
grill. There was heat, but not quite enough. ‘I guess it’s about ready,’ she said. ‘Would you like a salad?’
Tony shook his bald head.
‘I’d make rice, but there really isn’t enough time. I have to be going pretty soon.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘There’s a couple of films I need to see.’
‘You’re going to the movies?’ he asked, his small eyes opening wide. ‘Can I go with you?’
Dani tried not to grimace.
‘Please? I’ll even buy the tickets.’
‘There’s no need for that.’
‘I’d like to. Really. You’ve been so nice to me.’
‘You’ve probably already seen the movies, anyway.’
‘What are they?’
‘
Zombie Invasion
and
Night Creeper
.’
‘Wow! When did
they
open?’
‘Yesterday, I think.’
‘Man, I’ve really been looking forward to
Night Creeper
!’
Tony was eager to drive.
‘No, that’s all right,’ Dani said as they left the house. ‘We’ll take my car.’
‘Come on. It’ll be fun. Have you ever gone in a hearse?’
‘No. And it’s an experience I plan to avoid as long as possible.’ She smiled at her joke. Tony didn’t. His mother had just died. Dani suddenly blushed at her tactless remark. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘that monster must eat up gas like there’s no tomorrow.’
‘It is pretty bad,’ he admitted.
Dani climbed into her Rabbit, leaned across the seat and unlocked the passenger door. ‘What ever possessed you to buy that thing?’ she asked, passing it as she backed onto the road.
‘It scares people.’
‘Doesn’t it scare you?’
‘That’s half the fun.’ He turned in his seat to face her. ‘It’s a fifty-two, you know. It was hauling stiffs more than ten years before I was even born. I figured it all out: if it even carried just two a week, that’s more than three thousand in thirty years. It was probably even more. Can you imagine all those bodies?’
‘I’d rather not.’
‘I’ve got a coffin in the back. A real nice mahogany one. Silk lining and everything. Sometimes, I sleep in it.’
‘Wonderful.’
‘Do you believe in ghosts?’
Dani shrugged.
‘I do. Sometimes, I hear them when I’m driving.’
‘Geez, Tony.’
‘Moaning and groaning.’
‘You’re making that up.’
‘No. Honest. And once, around midnight, a hand touched the back of my neck. I almost crashed. When I looked around, though, nobody was there.’
‘Stop it, Tony. I’m serious. I don’t want to hear this. If you keep it up, I’ll turn the car around and that’ll be it for the movies.’
‘I just thought you’d be interested,’ he said, sounding hurt.
‘Some other time, all right?’
‘Okay.’ He sat forward and crossed his arms.
After a while, to break his gloomy silence, Dani asked about his favourite movies.
He immediately cheered up. ‘
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
is my all-time favorite.’
‘Mine too.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep.’
‘How’d you like it when he stuck that girl on the meat hook?’
‘I cringed. I could almost feel it going in.’
‘Yeah, me too. How about the old guy with the hammer?’
‘Yuck.’
Dani found that she was enjoying their talk. As she drove down Crescent Heights toward Pico, they discussed Hooper’s other works. The conversation shifted to films by Craven, Romero, Cronenburg, Carpenter. They talked about their favorite scene, Dani sometimes pointing out how certain effects were created.
‘How about that shower scene in
Eyes of the Maniac
?’
‘Oh, you saw that?’
‘Four times,’ Tony said. ‘How’d you do that with the poker?’
‘It actually penetrated a full body appliance we’d made up of Jenny – a dummy.’
‘It looked so real.’
‘Well, we made it from a cast of her. Basically the same technique we used on you this morning, except we covered her entire body.’
‘Naked?’
‘Yeah.’ She thought of Ingrid.
‘What were the guts?’
‘Guts.’
‘Real guts?’
‘Pig entrails. We get them from a slaughter house.’
He shook his head. ‘You do all that stuff, but you don’t want to hear about my death buggy.’
‘That’s right. I still don’t.’
‘What’s the difference?’
‘Films aren’t real.’
‘Pig guts are.’
‘I don’t enjoy that part. It’s just necessary. Besides, I let Jack do most of the real grubby stuff.’
‘It wouldn’t bother
me
.’
‘I’m sure. But anyway, that’s the difference. Films are make-believe. Jenny Baylor didn’t get skewered with a fireplace poker. After it was over, she went home. Not to a morgue.’
‘But it scared the hell out of the audience. It grossed them out.’
‘It’s just toying with their imaginations. I mean, they let themselves believe the movie’s real, but deep down they know it isn’t.’
‘So they aren’t as scared.’
‘They’re
playing
at being scared.’
‘That’s why real life is better,’ Tony said, and looked at her as if expecting a challenge.
‘Skewering people?’
‘No, scaring them. I’ve never hurt anybody. I just like to scare the shit out of them. Have you ever done that?’
‘I’ve jumped out of the dark and yelled “Boo” a few times.’
‘Isn’t it a kick?’
‘It’s fun once in a while.’
‘Doesn’t it make you all shaky and excited. Hiding in the dark, just waiting to pounce?’
She shrugged.
‘It turns
me
on.’
‘Different strokes,’ Dani muttered, and swung the car over to an empty stretch of curb. She glanced at her wristwatch. ‘Five minutes to spare.’
Walking toward the ticket window, she opened her purse.