The Church of Dead Girls (23 page)

“Was he hit?” I would ask.

“No. A policemen rescued him. Maybe it was Ryan.” Or she looks at the rattlesnake in its glass jar and says, “Why do people call snakes evil? They just look sad.”

And Hark's cronies, Jeb Hendricks, Ernie Corelli, Jimmy Feldman—I remember them all. Jeb and Ernie were students of mine in eighth grade science, rather stupid boys who couldn't pay attention. But I can remember them even younger at the swimming pool in Lincoln Park doing cannonballs off the diving board or turning wheelies with their bicycles on the side streets. All the usual behavior of growing up—that long process beginning with innocence and ending where?

When Hark Powers looks in the mirror and sees a scar where his left ear used to be, what are his thoughts? When Barry looks at his reflection and blinks his weak eyes, what does he see? When Aaron shaves each morning, can he see his face without remembering his mother's? And the person who abducted Sharon Malloy, what does he see when he studies his face? Does he feel a sliver of ice in his heart?

Five years ago Aurelius had a Christmas pageant that included a chorus of angels surrounding the manger in Bethlehem. The angels were grade school girls and they sang “O Holy Night.” Sadie was one of the angels, as were Sharon Malloy, Sarah Patton, Meg Shiller, Bonnie McBride, Hillary Debois, and two or three others. The angels wore elaborate white gowns made from sheets but with strings of tinsel and chains of costume jewelry. Dozens of brooches and shiny pins were attached to the fabric. With every movement the gowns sparkled and shone. The girls had cardboard wings covered with glitter, and golden halos set in their hair shimmered in the light. Their high voices in the high school gym made my teeth rattle. It is impossible for me to think about Sharon Malloy without also seeing her as an angel singing “O Holy Night.” That must be true of hundreds of people in my town.

The terror that Sharon's disappearance gave rise to was not simply the possibility of Sharon's death, though that was awful enough; it also imposed the face of death on all of these children. They became potential specimens, like those in my jars. Would Bonnie McBride live to graduate from high school? Would Hillary Debois grow to adulthood? Would Sadie reach her twentieth year? This was the shadow that crept over our town: Who else would disappear? And the suspicions and fears that this shadow gave rise to, what violence might they prompt?

I
don't know how it is in other towns, but in Aurelius Halloween has increasingly become an important event. When I was a child it was just a matter of putting on a mask or a homemade costume and going door to door trick-or-treating. Now costumes have become rather costly or may even be rented for the night. People's houses have elaborate decorations with flashing lights and howls. There are pumpkin trash bags and fake cobwebs, tombstones and hanging skeletons, scary music and shimmering electric candles. One sees dummies in old clothes hanging from trees or lying in front yards, sometimes with knives in their chests. It reminds me of a religious occasion lacking a deity.

The children expect more as well: full-sized candy bars, boxes of assorted treats, even money. One recent Halloween when I passed out a few small pieces of candy to each child—lollipops and jawbreakers, what I thought of as old favorites—half a dozen children looked at my little offering and said, “Is that all?” One boy even turned me down.

If there is something religious about Halloween, it is hard to say what the religion might be. Nothing nice, I expect. Years ago one was buying off visiting demons with treats. Now the householders seem in collusion with the demons. Worse, with their tombstones, stuffed cadavers, and sound effects of creaking doors, screams, and wolf howls, they try to terrify the demons who come to trick-or-treat. There is a frenzy to Halloween, as if the very Prince of Darkness were being flattered and courted.

When I was young, there were marauding bands of teenagers on Halloween—at least that was how they saw themselves—who soaped windows and overturned trash cans. Nowadays this behavior is more pernicious. One year Helen Berger's Geo was put on its roof in her front yard. A garage was set on fire on Alfred Street, several cherry bombs were scooted up the exhaust pipes of parked cars, and Mrs. Parson's collie dog Ollie was shaved naked. Malicious mischief, the police said, but there was also the sense that this behavior was intended to summon a darker force, even to seduce that darker force. And it wasn't just teenage boys who behaved badly. Hark Powers, for instance, and his three cronies were all adults and they were eager to make trouble.

All four, as well as Aaron, had been charged with being public nuisances the previous Saturday night. Aaron was more victim than aggressor, but Ryan hadn't liked Aaron's kicking Hark when he was holding on to Hark's arm. So Aaron was charged. All five were fined $300 each. Barry's mother was telephoned from the police station and she came to pick up her son. That night Barry ate dinner at home after all, while his mother sat across from him and asked how he had managed to get in so much trouble.

Because Aaron had thrown the last punch, the issue stayed open. Hark was furious that he'd been made to look bad in front of his friends. He had been painfully kicked in the groin and was unable to respond. Hark talked about it at Bud's Tavern; he talked about it at Jack Morris Ford. And each time his sense of injury increased. To his mind Aaron deserved far worse than a fine. Jeb and Ernie inflated his sense of ill-treatment. They asked what he meant to do and how he would get revenge. Hark was obliged to do something not just because he had been unfairly struck but in order to retain control over his friends.

“Wait till Halloween,” Hark said.

Other people, including Sheila Murphy, heard him say this. And they later testified to that effect in court.

Sharon's disappearance created another kind of scariness that Halloween. Few children went out by themselves. Either they went in groups or their parents drove them. A number of parents held parties at home so their children wouldn't go out at all. And it wasn't a very nice night, cold with a light rain that turned to heavy snow by early morning.

Sadie dressed up as a vampire and wore a black dress and a black wig. Her face was painted white and her lips were bright red. She went with her friends Meg Shiller and Hillary Debois. Meg went as the victim of a hit-and-run accident, swathed in bloody bandages and with her left leg in a cast. Hillary was a zombie and had a zombie wig and a mouthful of oversized teeth. And she carried a club with a nail through it. They visited me. They seemed nervous about going out and I offered to go with them. That was a mistake because they were so chagrined by my offer they forgot their fear entirely. It was strange to see these three horrors standing in my living room chewing on Tootsie Rolls, while peeking from behind the blood and makeup was their thirteen-year-old prettiness.

My own time that evening was spent sitting by the front door and passing out Baby Ruths, Milky Ways, and Snickers. I had lab reports to grade, but I doubt that I had five uninterrupted minutes between six o'clock and nine. The children who came were wet and bedraggled. They looked more like refugees than demons. Often a father or mother would be waiting out on the sidewalk. Some householders dressed up as well and met their callers with larger and scarier versions of the children's own costumes. I wore my usual blue blazer and bow tie, and while it may be a costume, it is the one that people expect me to wear.

Hark and his friends had rudimentary costumes. Hark wore a black mask with a moustache and a Mets baseball cap. Jeb Hendricks had an over-the-head ghoul mask. Ernie Corelli wore a plastic Mickey Mouse mask. Jimmy Feldman wore a green grasshopper mask. They drove around in Jeb's red Chevy Blazer with an ice chest of Budweiser in the back. The longer they drove, the more rambunctious they got.

From about seven they crisscrossed the town for a while, then drove over toward the college, where there was a Halloween dance. Jeb gunned his Blazer at kids crossing the street. Then they drove into the country to play mailbox baseball, destroying six or seven mailboxes with baseball bats. Tom Schneider heard them smash his mailbox and gave chase in his pickup, but they got away. Around eight they drove to Aaron's apartment. Aaron's lights were off. Jeb parked and they went inside and hammered on the door. Their plan was to grab Aaron, then drop him off in front of City Hall without any clothes. Maybe they would hog-tie him. Maybe they would tie him naked to the Civil War monument and cover him with yellow spray paint. Maybe they would tie a dog to him as well. Discussing these options gave them much pleasure and so it was disappointing that Aaron wasn't at home.

Jeb's Blazer had a particularly loud muffler and many people heard it. And there were other groups of young men, not unlike Hark and his friends, also intent on mischief. Somebody tied the back bumper of Randy Beevis's Ford Bronco to the front door of Weaver's Bakery, and when Randy drove away the door was ripped off and the fire alarms sounded. And someone, perhaps the same person, spread vegetable oil on the steps of the police station. Chuck Hawley took a nasty spill and hurt his coccyx.

Franklin went out with Bob Alton, his photographer. Halloween was on Tuesday that year and Franklin wanted to have a full page of photos for Thursday's paper. They found six teenage boys in coats and ties carrying a seventh, Louie Hyde, in a coffin. They carried the coffin door-to-door and soon it was half full of candy. Louie Hyde had been selected as the corpse because, though he was fourteen, he was under five feet tall. Bob Alton took twenty photos and Franklin interviewed Louie, who said it wasn't bad being dead because it meant he got to ride.

Franklin also got a picture of a dummy being hauled up the flagpole at City Hall. The Elks sponsored a party for young people with apple bobbing and a costume contest. Franklin talked to the winners—the twins Tim and Tom Miller—who were dressed as a pair of dice. Bob Alton also took pictures of kids they saw on the street: Lucy Schmidt being drawn in a cart by a St. Bernard, the six Gillespie boys and girls all dressed as Big Bird. Franklin drove by Dr. Malloy's house but there were no lights downstairs. The same was true of the Leimbachs' house. Donald Malloy's house was dark as well. Franklin was busy all evening, but because of what happened later he decided it would be in bad taste to run any of the pictures.

Ryan Tavich had a date with Cookie Evans and meant to take her to the Colgate Inn for dinner, but he broke it at the last minute. He couldn't say why. He had an unsettled feeling. He spent the evening in his car, driving around town or parked on Main Street.

Cookie was not pleased with him. “At least you could have given me a day's notice so I could have gotten another date.”

Sadie, Meg Shiller, and Hillary Debois stayed on the streets in their own neighborhood. Later Sadie said that they had had no fun, that it was too cold and wet. They saw a lot of other kids, but because of their costumes and the dark, they recognized very few.

“We saw big kids,” said Sadie, “like adults in costumes.”

“How many?” I asked.

“Maybe twenty or so, a lot more than usual.”

These may have been parents watching their children, but perhaps not.

Shortly after eight o'clock Hark and his friends drove to Barry's house. All four clumped up on the front porch and Hark rang the bell. Mrs. Sanders answered the door. She was a solid woman, quite a bit larger than Barry himself.

“Trick or treat,” said Hark.

Jeb Hendricks laughed.

Mrs. Sanders started to hold out the bowl of candy, then paused. “You seem pretty big for trick-or-treating,” she said.

“We're kids at heart,” said Hark. He stepped forward, took the bowl of candy from Mrs. Sanders, and gave it to Ernie Corelli. Both Jeb Hendricks and Jimmy Feldman began taking handfuls of candy and sticking it in their pockets. Then Jeb threw a piece of candy at Jimmy and Jimmy threw a piece back at Jeb.

“Give that to me,” said Mrs. Sanders, crossly.

Hark ignored her. “Can Barry come out and play?” he asked.

“We want Little Pink,” said Ernie.

“Don't you dare call him that,” said Barry's mother. She snatched the bowl of candy from Ernie. When he tried to stop her, she pushed him backward so he stumbled.

“Get off my porch!” said Mrs. Sanders.

“The old lady's pissed off,” said Jeb.

Mrs. Sanders put the bowl inside the door, then turned to them again, holding a black umbrella. “Get off my front porch.”

“We want Little Pink,” said Hark.

Mrs. Sanders jabbed Hark in the stomach with the umbrella so he grunted.

“I know who you are, Hark Powers,” she said. “Get off my porch before I call the police.” She swung the umbrella again and all four stepped back.

Hark considered taking the umbrella from her. He was angry at being made to look foolish. A group of children—legitimate trick-or-treaters—approached the house.

“Let's go,” said Hark. They walked back to Jeb's Blazer. Jeb dumped the candy he had taken onto the ground. When he pulled away from the curb, he squealed his tires.

Mrs. Sanders called the police anyway. “You better arrest Hark Powers,” she told Chuck. “He tried to break into my house.”

Three patrol cars were out that night. Chuck radioed them and suggested they keep a lookout for Hark. He didn't know about Jeb's red Blazer. He thought they were in Hark's pickup.

Hark told Jeb to drive back to Aaron's apartment. It was still dark. Hark went and hammered on the door just in case. He waited a minute and hammered again. Then he went back outside.

“Let's find some dog shit,” he said.

The four men prowled around the yard and found three small piles of dog excrement, which Jimmy picked up with a plastic bag over his hand. Hark told him to put half of the excrement into Aaron's mailbox. The other half Jimmy smeared over Aaron's door. As they were giggling about this, Herman Potter, who lived across the hall, looked out. “Hey, what're you doing?”

“Fuck you,” said Hark. They hurried back to Jeb's Blazer.

Next they tried to find Leon Stahl, who had a small apartment over by the college.

“We'll take him downtown and leave him naked in front of City Hall,” said Hark. “The fat fuck.”

Leon's apartment house had a buzzer system by the front door. Hark pushed the buzzer and after a moment Leon's voice came through the little speaker. “Who is it?”

“Friends,” said Hark.

“Who?”

“Aaron McNeal.”

“You don't sound like Aaron,” said Leon, suspiciously.

“Sure it is, let me in,” said Hark.

“What's your middle name?”

“Come on, Leon, let me in.”

“What's your middle name?”

“Push the other buttons,” said Jeb. “Someone will answer.”

There were fifteen apartments in the building and Hark pushed the buttons for all of them. After a moment there was a buzzing sound and Hark opened the door.

They hurried up to Leon's apartment and hammered on the door. Hark put his hand over the peephole. When Leon wouldn't open, Hark stepped back and gave the door a great kick.

“I see who you are,” said Leon. “I'm calling the police.”

“Who am I?”

“Hark Powers.”

“Shit,” said Hark. They went back downstairs to Jeb's Blazer. “How the fuck can these people know me with a mask on?”

“It's probably your clothes,” said Jeb.

“Or the way you walk,” said Jimmy.

They didn't want to tell Hark it was because of his ear.

They drove to Harriet Malcomb's apartment but she wasn't home. They drove back to Aaron's but his lights were still off.

“Let's get those two brothers,” said Hark.

They got Jesse and Shannon's address from the phone book. It was an apartment near the college on Whittier Street.

Jesse and Shannon had been out earlier that evening trick-or-treating, which they did because they had no money and wanted candy. They put bandannas over their noses and said they were outlaws. After thirty minutes of trick-or-treating, they returned home to watch television. About eight-thirty, Barry called to say that Hark had come to his house. Shortly after nine, Leon called and said that Hark and his friends had come to his apartment as well. Neither Barry nor Leon liked the two brothers but they wanted to stay in their good graces. They also called Aaron and Harriet, but neither was home.