Bad Creek, page 12
“After she went missing for two days, the body of Helena Crawford was recovered by a fisherman near Stern Road,” Gum read out loud. “Nineteen-year-old Ms. Crawford was a nurse in training and engaged to be married July 31st. Her initial disappearance was not reported, as her parents, Todd and Mary Crawford, believed it was simply a case of cold feet. ‘But I knew something was wrong. She wouldn’t just run away,’ says her eldest brother, Rex Crawford. ‘Lena knew exactly what she wanted, and she wanted to marry Bill. She told me the first day she met him. And she made it happen. But the last week, she hadn’t been herself. Not sleeping. Not eating. Said someone was after her.’
“Despite the family’s suspicions, Helena’s passing was declared an accidental drowning. Jeremiah Clavey, local businessman and Ms. Crawford’s future father-in-law, claims, ‘It’s easy to call Helena’s passing a tragedy, but God doesn’t make mistakes. He has chosen her for a grander purpose.’ ”
Gum abruptly pulled away. “I can’t stand this shit.”
Iris finished the article for him. “A service will be held at the family’s home on Tuesday, from ten to two. Helena will be remembered for her grace, humor, and beauty, and will be missed by everyone blessed to know her.”
So that was it. No one knew how she had ended up in the water; no one tried to find out. How could one argue with God’s will? The only other thing on the page was a report on the deer population.
“So,” Iris said, “she was engaged to Bill Clavey, and that’s—”
“My grandpa, yeah.” Gum used the edge of Iris’s chair to spin himself in circles again. “Must have been before he moved back to Kentucky. It’s all super-fucked-up,” he continued. “My grandpa made it seem like he and Grandma Betty were high school sweethearts or something. No one mentioned a dead fiancée.”
“Then the same thing basically happens to his daughter . . .” Iris always steered clear of the Claveys. She knew what they were signaling when they wore their button-down linen shirts, their tasteful beige bumper stickers urging America to return to “family values.” Bill was the most frightening. He only gave Iris polite smiles, but if he didn’t already assume Iris was queer, he’d still think she was Devil’s spawn because of her parents.
Now she almost felt bad for the guy.
Almost.
Whatever trauma he had buried deep down didn’t excuse bigotry. What she didn’t get was why he moved back to Michigan after he lost his fiancée, or why he stayed after losing Beth.
Why did Rex stay?
Why did Savi invite Iris to a party on the anniversary of Glory’s drowning?
Why did Joanna demand to come back this year?
Why did you come back, Iris?
She reread the article silently. She wished Rex had been a little more specific when he mentioned his sister not acting like herself. Not sleeping and not eating could have meant she was depressed. But what if she had been sleepwalking too?
“It seems like a bunch of old families,” Gum suggested. “I mean, the Claveys basically founded the place and Rex has been here forever. Your mom’s grandma stayed here too, right? Whatever it is doesn’t seem to be targeting tourists.”
Iris stared at the photo from the paper. Helena had a beauty queen’s smile. Long lashes and milky smooth skin. Iris wanted to grab her through the screen and ask what had happened to her. Then it dawned on her. There was nothing stopping her from doing that.
“We should go back to the house and ask Helena,” she said.
“She’s sorta dead, Iris.”
“I mean her spirit,” Iris clarified. “She’s already been trying to communicate with you.”
“If by communicate you mean staring at me like she wanted to kill me, then yeah.”
She sighed. He was being so defeatist. She couldn’t blame him. She was still new at this trying-to-find-the-best-case-scenario thing herself. So far, all her hunches had led her closer to answers. She could feel the truth buzzing around her. So close. So close. She just had to keep reaching. Keep clawing for it. Not let her frustrations mutate into anger.
“Sometimes, in Dark Unknown, Max has to offer his energy to commune with spirits,” Iris said. “That’s why he doesn’t call himself a medium. He’s a conduit. ’Cause, it’s like he’s a channel for spirits to pass through.”
“Maybe,” Gum said, as he typed out a text. She wanted to tell him to put the phone away and pay attention, but she didn’t know how without sounding like an overzealous substitute teacher.
“We just explain that we want to help her cross over to the other side,” Iris suggested. “That’s why she’s still here. Unfinished business. She hasn’t been avenged.”
Gum nodded. “Maybe we do the avenging tomorrow? Aidan wants to meet us at the drive-in for a stakeout. Apparently Hudson is supposed to be there.”
“Hudson wasn’t alive for the first drowning,” Iris pointed out. “He was a baby for the second. There’s no way it’s him. I mean, Hudson couldn’t have made me sleepwalk.”
He couldn’t make her do anything. She was immune to his charms. He could give her as many dimpled smiles as he wanted and she’d still see him as he was: a spoiled asshole.
“Maybe the swim team is really a front. During practice they actually do witchcraft,” Gum joked. He was deflecting, as usual.
“Please take this seriously.”
He put his phone down. “I am. I just don’t want to pick sides. I want to be fair to both of you, ya know? And would it be so bad to chill and watch a movie for one night?”
“Sure,” Iris said, deadpan, not even bothering to hide her disappointment. She couldn’t count on the boys, even if their intentions were good. They were too afraid, just like the rest of Bad Creek. But Iris would prove she was fearless.
She would avenge Helena. And Glory.
Even if she had to do it alone.
Chapter 16 Gum
It was Aidan’s idea to stalk Hudson, but once they arrived at the drive-in, all he did was complain. His knuckles were tense as he drove through the massive grass parking lot at two miles an hour. He had to avoid hitting families dropping their expensive popcorn, dogs barking at other dogs, and college kids smoking joints by the porta-potties.
Iris said she’d meet them there, but it would be getting dark soon. Gum worried she wasn’t coming. After the library, she hadn’t ridden over to Aidan’s house with Gum. She had claimed she needed to stop at the Landings first. Supposedly her moms would be mad if she missed dinner. That was bull, but Gum couldn’t be mad at her for lying. He was lying nonstop. Every time he got a sudden chill, he could have sworn it was Glory’s breath on his neck. He still hadn’t told either of them about her; he couldn’t. Since he’d mentioned the ghost in the bathtub, Aidan was sure Gum was delusional and Iris was falling down a rabbit hole.
Plus, none of this investigating had made Glory go away. Gum was starting to think closure wasn’t possible.
“I don’t see the Great White,” Aidan said.
Hudson’s giant Escalade would stick out like a sore thumb in this sea of beat-up minivans, but they weren’t even sure he would be here tonight. Aunt Brenda said her son was going to the drive-in, so here they were. But if Hudson could cuss out his dad in the presence of the Second Largest Crucifix in the World, he wasn’t above lying to his mom about his plans.
None of those things meant he ought to be a suspect, though. Aidan’s theory was way off base. As much as Gum liked the idea of Hudson going off to prison, being insufferable wasn’t a crime. Hudson hadn’t done anything to hurt Glory. No one had. The lake had taken all those people because tragedy struck like lightning. It didn’t need a motive.
Ghost Glory didn’t have a purpose. She wasn’t a saint with a heavenly message; it was the opposite. It was like all of her good traits left her when she died, and now only her ugly parts remained. Surely she was pissed about her own death, but that wasn’t Gum’s fault. He didn’t deserve her rage. And he wasn’t a first-round pick for being a messenger either. If she had unfinished business, she could take it somewhere else.
Aidan parked the Jeep in the third row of cars, a good spot despite arriving so close to showtime. He tuned the radio to the drive-in’s station. The charming vintage ads were still running, so they had about five minutes to spare.
“What’s even playing?” Gum asked, pulling a pack of candy cigarettes from his back pocket.
“It doesn’t really matter. We have a mission,” Aidan reminded him.
Right. Find Hudson. And then . . . watch him to see if he did anything murdery? It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but Gum didn’t have any better ideas. Iris blamed ghosts, and Aidan blamed Hudson, and Gum tried to resist the urge to shiver.
She would show up soon. He could sense her. He chewed on one of the candy cigarettes, hoping the chalky texture would give his brain something else to focus on. But there was no ignoring the heaviness in his bones.
When the big screen went black, people turned off their car lights and the muffled voice of an unenthusiastic and underpaid college kid came through the Jeep’s radio.
“Thank you for joining us for another summer at the Bad Creek Drive-In,” they said. “Our first film in tonight’s Monster Feature, It Runs Below.”
Gum laughed, while Aidan sank down his seat, groaning.
Aidan got embarrassed at any mention of Paul’s movie, but Gum always thought that was dumb. Gum’s parents had never done anything noteworthy. His mom didn’t get a chance, and his dad was perfectly content with being ordinary. The movie wasn’t even that bad. It was campy. Fun. Aidan just couldn’t admit that he would have liked it if it were directed by literally anyone else.
“You know I met the director once?” Gum teased. “He’s so cool.”
“Really, I heard he was an alcoholic deadbeat.”
“Are we talking about the same guy? ’Cause Paul Ross is the smartest, funniest, sexiest man I’ve ever met.”
“You’re so gross.” But Aidan was laughing.
There was a knock on the passenger door. Gum jumped. Even through the closed windows, he could feel the cold seeping in. She was here. He saw her curls in the darkness, the glimmer of water falling off her face. He blinked, and Glory was gone. It was just Iris, holding her backpack, waiting for them to unlock the door.
Get a grip, he told himself.
Gum slid into the middle of the bench seat to let Iris in. She plopped down, exasperated. Maybe she rode her bike all the way here. The drive-in wasn’t far from the Landings.
“Sorry,” she said. “What’s playing?”
“Only a masterpiece,” Gum said.
The opening scene had started: a top-down shot of a well, with the slowest zoom in history. Red names appeared in the center of the black void, disappearing with a cheesy ripple effect.
Iris giggled. “Oh, finally. True cinema.”
Aidan turned down the radio. “We’re not watching the movie.”
“You’re right,” Iris said. “It’s not a movie, it’s an experience.”
“I think we should split up, look for his car.”
“Okay,” Gum said. He preferred to not to have today’s scheduled breakdown in front of his friends. He couldn’t lie to their faces again.
Iris took a big swig of her water bottle. “And then what?”
“See how he acts.”
“M’kay.” Iris squeezed her giant bottle in the cupholder and stepped out after agreeing on what routes they would take. The drive-in was about the size of a football field, with a dozen rows of cars all facing the same massive screen. With the three of them looking, it shouldn’t take long for someone to spot Hudson and his obnoxious friends and his obnoxious car. Gum started down the first row, passing couples on picnic blankets and mothers spraying their kids with bug spray. He made it to the food truck at the end. Hudson wasn’t in line.
Gum turned onto the second row. The sweat from the afternoon still hadn’t dried on him, yet his hands and feet felt numb. He was starting to feel itchy too, and not just because of his sunburn from that morning, or the new mosquito bites on his arms. He could smell her already. She was here, somewhere.
Gum tried to glance into some of the cars without looking like a creep. He didn’t see his cousin sitting with any of the usual suspects. When he made it to the food truck again, he thought about grabbing snacks, but a huge line had gathered around the popcorn machine’s yellow glow. The girl at the end turned and looked at him. She wore a red shirt, a long skirt. Her skin was gray, and she was covered in dark, slimy water.
Oh shit.
He turned and started down the third row, trying to think about anything other than Glory. Then he made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder to check. Yep. She was following him, unseen between the rows of cars. He picked up his pace. Open car windows let in the movie’s soundtrack—a low hum that got louder and louder as danger grew nearer. He knew Glory was getting closer. With every step, the ground felt softer. Gum’s legs were jellifying. He didn’t know what she would do when she caught up to him.
He yanked the Jeep’s door open and collapsed into the bench seat, locking the doors behind him. The radio wasn’t set to the right station. Part of the dialogue from the movie came through, but the rest was static.
On the screen, the spring-breakers were discovering the haunted well behind their rental cottage. The main girl screamed, “Hello!” into the empty hole. When her voice echoed back, it sounded different.
By the second act, the voice that responded would have killed all of the main character’s friends.
The Jeep shook. Glory had found him, and now she was pounding on the glass. If she was a ghost, how could she move the car? Shouldn’t she be able to phase through walls and shit?
She looked even worse than before. Her eyes were too far apart, her smile too wide. Her teeth were smaller and crooked. She looked like a very wet, very gray jack-o’-lantern.
“C’mon, Gum, this isn’t funny!” Her voice was low, phlegmy. She sounded like Glory with the flu.
“What do you want?”
She kept pounding. Jiggling the door handle. “Let me in!”
“Why me?” he asked, feeling betrayed by how weak he sounded.
She pulled back and stared at him. Her eye sockets were shifting around her face, like she couldn’t remember exactly where they were supposed to sit.
“It’s your right,” Glory said. Her voice was gentle now. He knew this tone. She always switched it up whenever someone resisted her charms. “It was always supposed to be you.”
“So, what, now you want to kill me?”
“No,” she said. “You’ll be fine . . . if you follow instructions.”
“Instructions? What do you want me to do?”
“I’ll explain everything if you let me in.”
All the blood rushed to Gum’s head. His stomach lurched, like his body was rejecting her presence. It wasn’t fair to judge a ghost by her looks or smell, but he couldn’t stand it. His instincts knew something was wrong, just like the girl in the movie knew that it wasn’t her own voice echoing in the well.
If he let her in, she would have all the power. He couldn’t let that happen.
“No,” he said. His voice was weak. Barely a whisper.
She pounded on the door again, growling, “Daniel Gum, you’re such a pussy, it’s unbelievable.”
Gum closed his eyes and covered his ears. She would have to go away eventually. She would have to give up. Did ghosts get tired? Was that even what she was? Glory was the queen of insults, but she considered herself an intellectual. She’d never call him a pussy. She had better vocabulary than that.
And she was never that mean, was she?
“Dude, open the door!”
It wasn’t Glory’s voice now. It was too human. Aidan was staring at him through the window. Gum sat up; the static suddenly cleared away. Glory was nowhere to be seen, and as Gum let Aidan in, the rotten stench was replaced with scents of cigarette smoke, fresh-cut grass, and popcorn.
“I couldn’t find him,” Aidan said. “Where’s Iris?”
“She’s not back yet.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
His fear must have been hanging on his face. Gum leaned back in the seat and readjusted his baseball cap. “Nothing.” He wiped his forehead for good measure.
He was drenched in sweat, though he was freezing, and he lowered the window for air. Glory was gone, for now, but she wouldn’t leave him alone until she got what she wanted.
Until he followed instructions. Whatever that meant.
Aidan didn’t press the matter further, so they waited for Iris. On the screen, the main girl discovered her first dead friend. Gum didn’t watch the movie; he stared at Iris’s water bottle instead, a green scrunchie wrapped around it.
“Take it.”
Gum shivered all over. She wasn’t waiting outside the Jeep, but he was sure he’d heard Glory’s voice. Well, her new voice. The low, phlegmy gargle. As the breeze entered the cracked window, he could smell the stench again.
Aidan slouched in the driver’s seat, face glued to his phone, probably trying to reach Iris. He couldn’t feel Glory here. He didn’t even flinch.
“Take it.”
Louder this time, like she was speaking directly into Gum’s ear.
That was all Glory wanted? Iris’s scrunchie? She could have opened with that instead of all the dramatics. That was so like Glory. She couldn’t just be a ghost, but the most horrifying ghost ever. She was the best at everything. She had to be the best at scaring the shit out of people too.
Fine. She could have her way.
What was one scrunchie? Iris had a million of them. When he was sure Aidan was distracted, Gum reached for the green scrunchie and put it in his pocket.
Chapter 17 Iris
Iris had seen It Runs Below at least a dozen times, so she should have braced herself for the scene where the main character narrowly escaped the well. At the last second, right when the girl thought she’d made it out safely, the monster leaped out of the water and clamped its jaws around her leg.
