Someone's Watching, page 26
As the days passed, he didn’t forget the girl; he thought more and more about her. One day he went out to the lake to stare at the water and the raft and the boat just to recall what it had been like when he’d spied on them. He threw some rocks in the water and left.
And there were new feelings, feelings that wouldn’t leave him, feelings that drove him to think hard about the girl. He dreamed about her constantly and did whatever he could to revive the memories. Sometimes he spent his time simply walking through the places she had been in, touching the things she had touched. He even went out on the patio and lay out on the chaise lounge she had fallen asleep on that day.
But nothing was the same and nothing ever satisfied him. If anything, it made him more unhappy. He considered going into the casino and playing the music they had played, perhaps even wearing one of the costumes, but he decided against doing that at the last minute. When he finished the milk Jake had brought, he was terribly despondent and couldn’t believe that he was actually hoping for Jake to arrive again so there would be more milk.
And then one day it came to him. The idea exploded in his mind. He had been staring out the attic window, looking down at the driveway, and remembering how the girl had run to the car. She had looked back once as the automobile pulled away and disappeared around the turn. The image of her face lingered as though it were frozen in the air out there.
He thought about how he had waved and how he had taken just a step or two forward. Suddenly it occurred to him: What if he had taken a few more steps and a few more? What if he had run after the car, followed it down the road? Maybe if he had done that, he would have seen where they had gone. Maybe he could still find out where they had gone. Perhaps they weren’t that far away. He remembered the car. If he saw it again, he would know it.
His eyes widened with excitement. He clapped his hands together. He would do it. He would go down the driveway and follow the road until he found their car and then . . . then he would find the girl. He would call to her and she would remember him and maybe, just maybe, he could talk her into coming back to the hotel.
It was already late in the afternoon when he started out. Much of the low sunlight was blocked by the trees. He traveled as much as he could in the forest parallel to the road, sometimes stopping to hug a large maple or oak as he surveyed the road ahead of him. From the moment he left the hotel grounds, he periodically stopped to look back and see the roof of the main building. When it finally disappeared from sight, he was reluctant to go on. As long as the hotel loomed above him, he felt safe.
Was the girl so far away? How much farther could it be? He saw a car approaching and instinctively went to the floor of the forest on his hands and knees. The car was nothing like the car the girl had gone off in. This car was much smaller and a completely different color. He watched it pass and debated with himself as to whether or not he should go on.
It had already gotten much darker. He considered the possibility that he wouldn’t find the girl and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back. The thought terrified him and for a while he just stood there whimpering with indecision. Then, concentrating on his memory of the girl as hard as he could, he gathered his resolve and continued on, weaving and sliding in and out of the trees.
Eventually he reached a long, open field. Fortunately the grass was waist high and he was able to scurry across it, stooping as always. Satisfied that he was well hidden, he moved quickly to the forest at the other side and went on. Suddenly he came to a whole group of little houses on the other side of the street. He stopped, crouched down, and studied them.
There were no lights on in any of them and there were no signs of any people. He looked both ways by the road and then ran across, bending so low as he moved that his hands touched the pavement. He fell to his stomach in the grass and crawled closer to the entrance. Looking closely at the little houses now, he realized that the girl wasn’t there; no one was there. It was as empty as the hotel. He felt it was safe enough to stand up again and continue on.
It was very dark now, but his eyes, used to years and years of perceiving forms in the dark, quickly grew accustomed to the deep shadows. He had no trouble going on; he moved slowly to be cautious and see as much as he could. He didn’t want to pass up any houses. Once in a while he stopped to listen to the sounds of the night to see if he could hear any people. The crickets and peepers were noisier than ever. He wanted to scream out at them to be still for a few moments. Occasionally he would hear something in the forest across the road. Once an owl with a long wingspan swooped down a few feet before him and then went on to disappear in the black forest.
Now, when he stopped to listen, he did hear something. It sounded like . . . yes, it was . . . music. The sound was coming from the right, not very far off. He moved on, staying close to the bushes and trees, tunneling through shadows, draped in darkness. He had become a part of the night, almost indistinguishable from the swaying and nodding shadows of tree limbs and the different patterns created by the various configurations of leaves.
After a while he came to a turn. The music was louder now and very clear. He could make out the words. Slowly, hugging the bank of the road, he came around and then stopped immediately. The house was before him, lights on, someone visible in the upstairs window. Practically crawling, he began to approach it, and then his heart burst with joy. There, parked near the building, was the car the boy and girl had gone off in. He had done it. He had found her!
He was crawling closer when all of a sudden he heard laughter at the front door. He saw someone come out of the house. It looked like the girl. She went to the car and got in. A few moments later she started the engine and backed the car onto the road. He was going to walk toward it, but he decided too late. She headed in the opposite direction and was gone.
He sat on the ground, practically in tears. He was so close he could practically see her face and now she was gone again. He had come so far and now it was very dark. What was he to do? It must be her house, he thought. She would have to come back. He would wait and when she drove up again, he would run to the car to be sure she would see him and know he was here. It was a good idea.
He found a safe hideaway in a pocket of tall grass. From there he could see both the house and the road very well. He could even listen to the music. In time she would be back, he thought, and he would be here. He curled his body up and peered through the tall blades of grass and weeds. After a while he just closed his eyes and rested. Soon he fell asleep.
Hours afterward he awoke with a jolt. For a moment he forgot where he was. The music wasn’t playing anymore and most of the lights in the house were turned off. He wiped his eyes and remembered. He was about to stand up when he saw something in the upstairs window. Although it was dark, he could clearly make out the silhouette of the boy. He was sure he recognized the shape of his head and shoulders.
Why was the boy just standing there, staring out? Did he see him here in the grass? He stared up at the boy and waited without moving a muscle. Then the car returned.
He heard it before he saw the beam of its headlights. The moment it turned up the road toward the house, he stood up and looked up at the boy again. He had moved away from the window. Eric imagined he was coming downstairs to tell the girl he was here in the grass. That had to be it! He had to make sure he reached her first.
The car tires squealed as Elaine floored the accelerator. She was quite drunk and excited and she was going too fast to stop right at the house. She knew it was there, but her perception was clouded and distorted. Instead of slowing down, she continued to accelerate. Merle Thomas was drinking a beer in the front seat. She had picked him up at the bar and was taking him home to bed.
She never really saw Eric run into the road. She was laughing hysterically, her head turned to Merle to tell him she had failed to see her own house. Suddenly they heard the thump and felt the car pause. Because of her slowed reflexes, Elaine hit the brakes a full second afterward and the car screeched to a halt.
“I hit somethin’,” she said.
“Crazy . . .”
“I hit somethin’,” she repeated.
“Huh? What?” Merle looked about stupidly and struggled to clear his thoughts. He had nearly finished a six-pack before they got there, throwing each empty bottle into the backseat. Elaine pressed her head against the steering wheel.
Upstairs Marty was sure he had seen Eric in the darkness below. When Elaine turned the car toward the house, the headlights had outlined him clearly against the shadows below. Marty had stepped away from the window as though he had seen a ghost.
“What is it?” Judy asked.
He barely had time to say the name before they heard the terrible thump and the screech of car brakes. Neither of them moved for a moment and then they both rushed out of the room, down the stairs, and out the front door. They stopped on the porch. Eric’s immense body was sprawled face down on the road. He looked more gigantic than they remembered.
“Jesus Christ!” Merle shouted as he staggered out of the car. “Elaine, Jesus Christ!” He stood wavering over the body.
“What is it?”
“You hit some guy or somethin’! Jesus!”
Marty and Judy, holding hands now, approached slowly, silently. Elaine threw open the car door and struggled to pull herself out. She balanced herself against the car, then walked toward Merle.
“Oh God,” she said. “Is he . . .”
“I don’t know what the hell he is,” Merle said. He knelt down slowly, cautiously, as though he were afraid Eric would rise up and attack him. He lifted Eric’s left hand and studied it for a moment. “Hey,” he called to Marty, “c’mere and help me.” Marty looked at Judy. “C’mere, for Christ sakes. I can’t move him myself. Look at the size of him.” Marty stepped forward and helped Merle turn Eric on his back. The moment they did so, Merle stood up and whistled. “What the hell is it?”
“It’s a man,” Marty said. Judy came a few steps closer. Elaine put her hands to her ears to stop the ringing in her head.
“Is he . . . how is he?” she asked. Marty felt for a pulse and then put his ear to Eric’s chest to see if he could sense a heartbeat. A line of blood had formed across his forehead so evenly that it looked as though it had been painted there. His mouth was open and his eyes looked like they were made of glass as they continued their death stare.
“Better call the cops,” Merle said.
“Oh God,” Elaine said. “I didn’t see him. He came from outta nowhere. Oh God. . . .”
“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly in any condition to have seen anything,” Marty said. He looked at Judy, who had turned away. Elaine started to cry and beat on herself.
“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t a seen him anyway,” Merle said. “Take it easy. Who the hell is he?” he asked Marty. Marty just shook his head. “So it’s some kinda weirdo. Shit, you mighta saved someone’s life hittin’ him,” Merle added.
“That doesn’t make it right,” Marty snapped, but neither Merle nor Elaine heard him. The two of them went back to the car. Elaine lowered her head against the side window.
“What are we going to do?” Judy whispered.
“Nothing. Don’t say anything. If they find out who he is, they’ll think he just wandered off from the hotel.”
She looked back at him on the road, his arms twisted, his body contorted. Despite the grotesque-ness, she couldn’t help feeling a deep sense of sorrow.
“Oh, Marty,” she said. He put his arm around her and led her back toward the house.
“I know,” he said. “It’s awful. He must have thought we were in the car.”
They turned around when they heard Merle and Elaine shouting at each other. Each blamed the other now. They went at it for a few minutes and then Elaine looked at the body and became contrite. She broke into tears, her wailing almost as loud as her cursing had been. Merle became remorseful, too, but when he went to put his arm around her, she pushed him away.
“Well, fuck you,” he said and started walking down the dark road. Judy ran to Elaine and put her arm around her mother’s waist to lead her back to the house.
“I’ll call the police,” Marty said and went in ahead of them. Judy settled Elaine on the couch to wait. After he made the phone call, Marty got a blanket and brought it outside to cover Eric’s body.
He remained with the body until the patrol car came. He felt a certain obligation to do so. After all, Eric had probably saved his life and Judy’s as well. He had never meant them true harm. Nevertheless he was grateful when he finally heard the police siren in the distance. Now at least one nightmare was over.
Epilogue
The police never found out who Eric was. Marty realized it would be quite a while before Jake discovered that he wasn’t in the hotel, and the old man would probably never know it. Neither Marty nor Judy told the police anything. They were afraid of what any kind of investigation would lead to and there didn’t seem to be any reason to talk. Eric was dead, put out of the misery that came from no one really caring about him.
Elaine’s license was suspended for two months and Marty had to drive her to work and pick her up whenever their shifts coincided. When they didn’t, she had to take a taxi. But that was the least of her troubles.
Ironically, she was plagued with nightmares and remorse. Marty and Judy were surprised, even delighted, at the change that came over her. She didn’t want to go out nights, and she rarely had anything to drink. She took to cleaning the house more, spending more time cooking, watching television, and reading magazines. She went to sleep early and got up early, even when she didn’t have a day shift.
Although Marty worked hard at his job and enjoyed the physical labor, he didn’t see any future in it. Toward the end of the summer he made a decision and announced it at the dinner table.
“I went to the high school during my lunch hour today and spoke to the guidance people. They’re going to get me into a part-time program at the community college.”
“Really?” Judy’s eyes lit up with excitement. “You mean we’ll both have homework at night now?”
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
“That’s very good, Marty,” Elaine said. “That’s very good. I hope you work hard and get yourself out of this rut.”
“I’ll give it a shot,” he said. “I don’t know what I want to do yet, but I’ll see how it goes. I’ve been away from school for more than two years.”
“I’ll help you,” Judy said and he laughed. Even Elaine smiled at that.
It was very warm that night, and after dinner was done and the dishes were washed, Marty went outside. For a while he just stood there on the porch looking into the darkness. There was still something bothering him and he knew he would never be satisfied until he had taken care of it. His nightmares were proof of it. He stepped off the porch and walked slowly toward the car just as Judy came outside.
“Marty?” she called.
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
“I was going for a ride,” he said. She could barely see him in the shadows. “It’s hot,” he added.
“Why didn’t you ask me to go along?” He didn’t respond, but he didn’t move either. “You’re not just taking a ride.”
“I won’t be long,” he said and started toward the car again.
She stepped off the porch and started to follow him. “I’ll go with you.”
“It’s better if I go by myself.”
“No it isn’t, Marty. It’s not something that happened only to you.”
He thought for a moment. She stood beside him, her hand on his arm.
“Do you know what I want to do?”
“Yes,” she said softly.
“Get in then.” Without another word he started the car and backed onto the road. Neither of them looked at the other as he turned left and headed toward the hotel.
They drove in silence, both hypnotized by the darkness. The main building of the hotel appeared, inky black against a dark velvet sky peppered with stars, and he slowed down.
“Maybe it’s not necessary,” she said. “Maybe we shouldn’t.”
“It’s necessary. I don’t spend a night without wondering if he’s really dead or just locked away.”
“I think about it too.”
“Then you know why I can’t turn back.” He turned into the driveway and drove up slowly, bringing the car to a stop near the side entrance. “There’s a flashlight in the glove compartment,” he said. When she handed it to him, they got out of the car and went to the door of the hotel. They both paused for a moment to listen and then entered.
“It’s like we dreamed something,” she said, “and now we’re returning to it.”
“I know.”
There was a dreamlike quality to everything. As they entered the lobby, they felt as though they had left reality. Each piece of furniture, each fixture, every painting—all of it looked ethereal. As if a snap of the fingers could make it disappear and they’d be back in their own beds looking into the darkness of their own rooms.
They headed for the basement stairway. Every creak and echo in the building became threatening and they drew closer and closer to each other, practically moving as one body. They stopped at the door. Marty’s fingers were trembling as he raised his hand to turn the knob, but he opened the door and directed the flashlight down the steps. Again they hesitated and listened. There were sounds in the hotel, sounds they had heard before that somehow seemed terrifying now. Marty swallowed, took a deep breath, and started down. Judy held on to his arm as she followed very closely behind.
He found the first bulb cord at the bottom of the stairway and pulled it. In its sickly yellowish glow they saw a large rat squeeze past them into a hole half its size. Judy gasped and clung tighter to Marty’s arm. He found the next light cord and pulled it as well. A putrescent scent suddenly filled their nostrils. For a moment neither of them moved. Marty directed the flashlight’s beam farther in, on the fieldstone wall.
