Blood Games (21 page)

    The branches overhead were motionless. Beyond them, she could see pieces of sky and a few tiny dots of starlight.

    She closed her eyes.

    She heard birds singing, squawking, and the distant, lonely sound of an owl calling whooo. Insects chittered and hummed. She realized she hadn’t been bothered by mosquitos. That, at least, was something to be grateful about. So long as mosquitos didn’t assault her, she would be able to sleep on top of her bag.

    There were other sounds. Flutters. Furtive scurryings. Papery rustling sounds. Sometimes, soft thumps that she supposed must be something - twigs or pine cones - dropping out of the trees.

    She heard nothing that sounded like a person creeping through the woods. But that, she realized, was what she was listening for.

    
Nobody will find us here
, she told herself.

    
In the morning, we’ll find the keys.

    
Please, let us find the keys.

    
If only I’d been more careful picking up the shorts.

    In her mind, she was swimming underwater. Reaching for the plaid Bermudas. This time I’ll do it right, she thought. Grab them by the waist.

    As she reached down through the murky water, she saw the crossbars covering the top of the spring.

    So very close to the shorts.

    
Oh, my God.

    If the keys dropped through the bars…

    It was a long time before she fell asleep.

    

    

    When she woke up in the morning, Helen was gone.

    

    

    

    It was their junior year at Belmore.

    It was Thursday, 30 October.

    The girls, scattered about the living room of their apartment, had the television on. Abilene, slumped on the sofa with her feet resting on the coffee table, watched the eleven o’clock news anchored by Candi Delmar while Vivian fiddled with hair curlers, Finley studied TV Guide, Cora skimmed a chapter in her physiology textbook, and Helen munched nacho-flavored tortilla chips.

    ‘Parents,’ Candi reported, ‘are being encouraged to take advantage of various community activities, such as Halloween parties being hosted at local recreation centers, which provide a safe alternative to the traditional trick-or-treating.’

    ‘Oh, what fun,’ Abilene muttered. ‘Next thing you know, they’re gonna outlaw trick-or-treating.’

    ‘For those who do intend to allow their children to go from door to door, however, we at Newscene urge that several simple precautions be followed. Naturally, small children should always be accompanied by an adult. Make sure their costumes are made of flame-resistant fabrics and light in color so that they will be plainly visible to motorists. Masks should not restrict the child’s vision. Finally, take special care to inspect all the treats before you allow them to be eaten by your young ones. Be on the lookout for any signs of tampering, especially with such items as home-baked goods and fruit.’

    ‘The ol’ razor blade in the apple gag,’ Finley said, looking up from the TV Guide.

    ‘Ouch,’ Helen said.

    ‘… foreign objects in your child’s treats, you should immediately alert the police.’

    ‘Who would do something like that?’ Helen asked.

    ‘A lot of sick bastards in this world,’ Abilene said.

    ‘… these simple guidelines and have a safe and sane Halloween.’

    Cora shut her textbook. ‘Halloween was never intended to be safe and sane. The whole idea’s to get wild.’

    ‘I used to get scared silly,’ Helen said. ‘You know? You go up to some creepy old house and ring the doorbell? You never know who’s gonna open the door.’

    ‘Or what,' Finley added.

    ‘Oooo, I get goosebumps just thinking about it. I think it was my favorite holiday, besides Christmas.’

    ‘Once I got too old for trick-or-treating,’ Abilene said, ‘we’d always stay home and fix up the house. To make it look spooky. I’d hand out the goodies, but Dad’d pull stuff. Come to the door in a vampire outfit, or something. I remember this one time, he rigged up an overcoat so it covered his head. Then he hid on the porch and snuck up on the kids. Scared the hell out of them. Some of ’em actually ran off screaming. And Dad would end up laughing like crazy and Mom’d yell at him. He’d say, “Don’t be a stick-in-the-mud. They love it.” ’ Abilene shook her head. ‘It was so neat. He’ll probably be up to his same old tricks tomorrow night.’ She felt her throat tighten. ‘God, I’m making myself homesick.’

    ‘We oughta do something,’ Finley said.

    ‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘Last year was a drag. We bought all that stuff and nobody showed up.’

    ‘A few did,’ Vivian pointed out.

    ‘Six or seven. Might as well not have been a Halloween.’ Cora grinned. ‘We could crash the Sig party. They’re having that Midnight Sabat thing.’

    'You got a death wish?’ Abilene asked.

    ‘Why don’t we go out trick-or-treating?’ Finley suggested.

    ‘I think we’re a little old for that,’ Vivian said, pinning a final curler into her hair.

    ‘We could go to the movies,’ Helen said. ‘They’re having a special all-night Shock Festival at the Elsinore.’

    ‘That sounds pretty lame,’ Finley said.

    ‘Yeah,’ Abilene said. ‘We can go to movies any time.’

    ‘Helen does,' Cora pointed out.

    ‘It doesn’t have to be actual trick-or-treating,’ Abilene said. ‘But it’d be neat to get out into the streets. Put together some costumes. Get a look at the kids.’

    ‘See if any are even out there,’ Cora said. ‘Maybe they’ll all be off having a safe and sane time taking advantage of community activities.’

    ‘If they are,’ Abilene said, ‘I pity them. Anyway, how about it? We don’t actually have to go around ringing doorbells. What we could do is buy a bunch of candy and take it with us, and hand it out to the kids we see.’

    ‘I’ll wear my gorilla mask,’ Finley said.

    ‘Newscene wouldn’t approve,’ Cora told her. ‘It restricts your vision.’

    ‘Screw Newscene.’

    Finley wore her gorilla mask and a suit of green, mechanic’s coveralls that she found after cutting her afternoon classes and searching thrift shops in the seamier area of town. She announced that she would be going out as a grease monkey.

    Cora, averse to dressing up, gave in to pressure from the others and wore her varsity cheerleader costume from high school. It consisted of a white pullover sweater with a large M in front, a short white pleated skirt, white crew socks and sneakers.

    Vivian borrowed a costume from the wardrobe room of the theater arts department. She would be going out as a witch, complete with pointed hat and a flowing black gown. She used makeup to construct a nasty, bulbous wen for the tip of her nose. She didn’t want to carry a broom but Finley talked her into it.

    Abilene prepared her costume in secret. She cut out a foot-long crescent in cardboard, taped it securely to the pendant of a chain necklace, covered the cardboard with aluminium foil and attached the Schick label from a pack of injector blades. She scissored a big hole under one arm of an old sweatshirt. While the others were in the living room, she dressed herself in Reeboks, corduroy pants and the maimed sweatshirt. She dropped the chain over her head so that the shiny crescent hung across her chest. Then she joined the rest of them.

    ‘What the hell are you supposed to be?’ Cora asked, seeming to frown and smile at the same time.

    Abilene grinned. She raised her right arm and waved it up and down, showing her exposed armpit.

    ‘An ad for Ban deodorant,’ suggested Finley, who was tossing her gorilla head from hand to hand.

    ‘Beeeeep. Wrong.’ She tapped the dangling crescent.

    ‘Moon something,’ Helen guessed. ‘A silver moon.’

    ‘You’re a Moonie,’ Cora said.

    ‘Beeeeep. Wrong.’

    ‘A lunatic,’ Finley said.

    ‘I get it,’ Vivian said. Shaking her head, she rolled her eyes upward. ‘I’ll give you gals a couple of hints. One, it’s really dumb.’

    ‘That narrows things down,’ Cora said.

    ‘Two, Abilene’s an English major.’

    ‘Got it,’ Finley said. ‘She’s Huckleberry Armpit.'

    In unison, Vivian and Abilene said, ‘Beeeep. Wrong.’

    ‘Give up?’ Abilene asked. ‘Tell ’em, Viv.’

    ‘She’s “The Pit and the Pendulum,” you weenies.’

    The revelation was greeted with groans, chuckles, smirks and shaking heads.

    ‘Nobody’s gonna get that,’ Cora said.

    ‘So what? I think it’s pretty neat. That’s all that counts.’

    ‘You’re so weird, sometimes,’ Helen said.

    ‘Me? What are you supposed to be?’

    Helen, standing there among a grease monkey, a cheerleader, a ‘Pit and the Pendulum’ and a witch, seemed to be dressed as nothing more than Helen. She wore sneakers, brown corduroy pants and a white blouse. Clutched against her stomach was a wadded white sheet.

    ‘A laundry woman?’ Abilene suggested.

    ‘Hardly.’ Helen shook open her sheet. When she draped it over her head, Abilene saw that holes had been cut for her eyes and mouth.

    ‘Caspar the Friendly Ghost,’ Finley said.

    Helen raised her arms and went, ‘Woooooo.’

    ‘And you say I’m weird.’

    ‘I always used to go as a ghost,’ Helen explained.

    ‘Always?’

    ‘Every Halloween. But you’ve gotta get the full effect.’ Pressing the sheet to her face so she could see out the eyeholes, she drifted over to the sofa. She picked up a short length of rope with a hangman’s noose at one end. She dropped the loop over her head like a necklace, positioning the thick row of coils in the center of her chest. The weight of the noose, Abilene realized, was intended to hold the outfit in place.

    ‘Pretty decent,’ she said.

    'She won’t have to worry about getting hit by a car,’ Cora said.

    ‘True,’ said Abilene. ‘Not a ghost of a chance.’

    ‘Groan,’ Finley remarked. She put on her gorilla head. Bending over the sofa, she picked up her video camera. She taped the others while they gathered flashlights and several plastic sacks loaded with candy they’d purchased that day at a nearby convenience store. Then she led the way, walking backward through the doorway, the camera at her shoulder, recording the procession as it paraded along the corridor.

    Lowering the camera, she trotted downstairs. They followed her into the night.

    ‘ “The sky, it was ashen and sober,” ’ Abilene intoned. ‘ “The leaves, they were crisped and seer. ’Twas night in the lonesome October of my most immemorial year.” ’

    ‘Say what?’ asked Finley in a muffled voice.

    ‘A perfect Allhallows Eve,’ Abilene said. The wind in the tree tops sounded like cars rushing by on a freeway. It made shadows tremble and shake on the pavement of the road and sidewalk. It tumbled leaves through the air. It billowed Helen’s sheet and flapped Vivian’s witch gown and lifted Cora’s pleated skirt. It tossed Abilene’s pendulum from side to side. It licked her bare armpit, eased inside her sweatshirt’s gaping hole and slid its chilly tongue over her breast Though it gave her gooseflesh, she rather liked the feel of it.

    Stopping at a corner, Finley asked, ‘Which way?’

    ‘Let’s not get any closer to campus,’ Vivian said.

    Campus was several blocks straight ahead.

    Abilene glanced to the left That direction would lead downtown. To the right, however, the street passed between rows of family houses. Cars were parked along both sides and in driveways. Lights glowed on porches. Windows were bright. She saw jack-o’-lantems in front of many nearby homes. And as she watched, a group of kids hurried toward the sidewalk from a house midway down the block.

    ‘This way,’ Abilene said.

    They went to the right

    The kids were heading in their direction. Four little tykes, accompanied by a couple of women who waited on the sidewalk while they made forays to each house.

    ‘I hope these mothers don’t think we’re nuts,’ Vivian said.

    Approaching them, Abilene suddenly found herself feeling very self-conscious about her armpit She wished she’d worn a more conventional costume. Or a jacket.

    The kids came scampering back to the sidewalk. The boys were Batman and a Freddie Krueger. One girl was a ballerina. The other, in high heels, fishnet stockings, a black leather miniskirt and silky silver blouse, wore a great deal of makeup and a shaggy red wig. Abilene supposed she was meant to be a rock star, but she looked like a six-year-old hooker.

    What kind of mother would let her go out looking like that? Neither woman looked particularly weird.

    ‘Happy Halloween,’ Finley said.

    ‘Yikes, an ape!’ said one of the women.

    ‘He’s not a real ape,’ Batman pointed out.

    ‘We’re the Merry Halloween Team,’ Finley said. ‘And we bear gifts of goodies for all the little boys and girls.’

    A snort of laughter came from under Helen’s sheet.

    Finley clapped Cora on the back. ‘This is Cheery the Cheerleader. Cheery, give the kids some candy.’

    The children gathered around Cora. She reached into her sack, pulled out a handful of miniature Three Musketeers Bars, and dropped one into each bag.

    Receiving his treat, Freddie Krueger said, ‘Unpleasant dreams,’ and let out an evil laugh.

    The ballerina shyly murmured, ‘Thank you.’

    ‘Thank you very much,’ said Batman.

    The hooker muttered a petulant ‘Thanks’ and stepped right over to Abilene. ‘What’re you?’ she asked in her snotty little voice.