Authors: Edward Lee
City Infernal (39 page)
Instead, she’d confronted Jervis outside, when he’d arrived an hour late to start mowing the lawn. He looked a sight, a big bump on his head, a cut on his face, and he appeared exhausted with dark circles under his eyes.
“I ain’t lyin’ to ya, Ma,” he pleaded. “I didn’t drink a thing last night, I’se swear to ya.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Must’ve fallen out of bed and hit my head. And, lord, did I have some weird dreams.”
Weird dreams,
Mrs. Conner thought. She’d had a few herself, but they’d been less weird than wild. She blushed slightly thinking about it now.
Dreamed
I was
makin’ some serious bacon with Mr. Heydon.
Mrs. Conner thought. She’d had a few herself, but they’d been less weird than wild. She blushed slightly thinking about it now.
Dreamed
I was
makin’ some serious bacon with Mr. Heydon.
To her, it was a terrific dream.
“Just get on about your work and straighten yourself up, boy,” she ordered. “We got ourselves some fine jobs here at the house and I ain’t gonna let you mess it all up for us by comin’ to work late and lookin’ like you slept in a cement mixer. So get to work! And try not to be seen by Mr. Heydon. Honestly, you look like a perfect rube, boy.”
Jervis sluggishly yanked up on the cord, started the mower, and just as sluggishly began cutting the front lawn.
Mrs. Conner scurried back inside, her formidable bosom jogging up and down. She got back to cleaning the front bow windows as quick as she could, streaking her squeegee and squinting against the high morning sun. Hard as she tried to appear normal, she had to admit she was a little off kilter.
Those were some
dreams, she thought. Naughtily erotic, thrillingly dirty. Her crush on Mr. Heydon was clearly manifesting itself. Making love to him in the dream had seemed alarmingly real.
Those were some
dreams, she thought. Naughtily erotic, thrillingly dirty. Her crush on Mr. Heydon was clearly manifesting itself. Making love to him in the dream had seemed alarmingly real.
In fact, she wouldn’t mind having more dreams like that.
But what bothered her was her memory. Dreams aside, there was something definitely peculiar about last night. She couldn’t remember anything from eleven p.m. or so, to four in the morning when she woke up in the bed in her trailer, naked. Mrs. Conner never slept naked. And her clothes were strewn on the floor as if dropped there. This was not her style at all.
I ain’t old enough to be gettin’ senile,
she thought.
she thought.
She stepped up higher on the footstool, reaching up toward a higher pane.
“Good morning.”
Mrs. Conner nearly fell off the footstool. Mr. Heydon stood behind her looking up. She didn’t know why she thought it, but she had the oddest feeling that he might have been standing there for a while, looking at her. The thought flattered her, but she knew it was just a fantasy.
“Mornin’, Mr. Heydon. Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is. A good-to-be-alive day.”
She steadied herself and looked back down. Handsome man, if a bit fat, but Mrs. Conner liked a man with some meat on his bones.
Even if he wasn’t rich,
she mused,
I’d jump his bones in a second,
and then she thought,
Lordy, what’s gotten into me thinking such things!
Even if he wasn’t rich,
she mused,
I’d jump his bones in a second,
and then she thought,
Lordy, what’s gotten into me thinking such things!
“How are you today, Mr. Heydon?”
Bill Heydon arched his back as though it were sore, then rubbed his eyes. He looked very tired. “Feeling pretty beat to tell you the truth. Didn’t sleep that great.” He seemed to frown at himself, as if remembering something nonsensical. “I had the weirdest dreams last night.”
Mrs. Conner’s brow tittered.
You and me both.
But she couldn’t believe what she said next. “Sometimes if you talk out your dreams, it helps you understand yerself better. What did ya dream about?”
You and me both.
But she couldn’t believe what she said next. “Sometimes if you talk out your dreams, it helps you understand yerself better. What did ya dream about?”
Did he chuckle under his breath? “Never, uh, never mind, Mrs. Conner.”
She was blushing again in the recollection of her own dreams, then tried to change the subject. “How’s Miss Cassie feelin’? She seemed a bit under the weather the past few days.”
“She’s still in bed, I just checked on her. I think she just got too much sun. She’ll be fine in no time.”
“I sure hope so, Mr. Heydon. She’s a right nice gal, she is.” She polished more glass, desperate for something more to say. She didn’t want him to leave. “Oh, just so ya know, Jervis is out front mowin’ the yard, and I should be done with these windows in an hour or so. Then I thought I’d start scrubbing the floors in some of the rooms upstairs, that is, if ya like.”
Bill looked distractedly at his watch. “Don’t bother. I don’t care about those old rooms.” He paused, looking at her. “Say, I was wondering ...”
“Yes, Mr. Heydon?”
“I was thinking of driving up to Pulaski. Would you like to go with me? We could have lunch somewhere.”
Again, Mrs. Conner nearly fell off the footstool. “Why—I—why sure, Mr. Heydon. That’d be lovely....”
“Forget about the windows. Let’s go now.”
Mrs. Conner could barely speak. “I’m, uh, ready when you are, Mr. Heydon.”
“I’ll be right back. Let me get my keys. Oh, and call me Bill.”
(V)Did I just ask my housekeeper out on a lunch date?
Bill shrugged.
To hell with it. I can do what I want.
Bill shrugged.
To hell with it. I can do what I want.
And, man, what a body....
He went back to his bedroom, grabbed the keys to the Caddie. Something caused him to pause, though, and look around the room.
He’d wakened in the wee hours, naked in bed.
Bill Heydon never slept naked, or at least not for years.
And why were his t-shirt and shorts scattered about the room?
Weird,
he thought. Another thing he’d noticed was a broken lamp on the floor, and it infuriated him that he couldn’t explain it. It must’ve fallen off the nightstand or something.
he thought. Another thing he’d noticed was a broken lamp on the floor, and it infuriated him that he couldn’t explain it. It must’ve fallen off the nightstand or something.
His body was sore, and this morning when he looked in the bathroom mirror, he noticed some bruises on his chest and scratchmarks on his shoulders and back.
He could remember nothing of last night ... except the dreams.
Man,
he thought again.
What a body....
he thought again.
What a body....
It was just one of those things, he supposed. Upon waking, some nameless fear had seized him.
Cassie,
he’d thought. But when he’d rushed upstairs to her room, he found her safely asleep in bed.
Cassie,
he’d thought. But when he’d rushed upstairs to her room, he found her safely asleep in bed.
Bill just shook his head at the whole perplexity and left the bedroom. Better just to forget about it.
It was time for his lunch date....
Epilogue
(I)“Eight-ball in the corner,” Roy said, awkwardly lining up the shot.
He’s getting cocky, I guess,
Cassie thought. Only some expert English by a pro pool player could make such a shot, and the rest of the bar’s patrons laughed when Roy called it.
He’s getting cocky, I guess,
Cassie thought. Only some expert English by a pro pool player could make such a shot, and the rest of the bar’s patrons laughed when Roy called it.
Too bad I can’t tell him why he’s really winning. click
Via, unseen to all but Cassie, flicked the ball into the pocket. The crowd around the table cheered.
“Rack ’em,” Roy said to the next challenger.
Things were settling down now. It hadn’t taken Cassie long to recuperate from her sojourn to Hell. She felt fine now, rested, healed, and surprisingly normal. Her father had some serious ga-ga eyes for Mrs. Conner, and the feeling was clearly mutual. Soon, they’d be officially dating, which was perfectly okay with Cassie. Jervis, for reasons only Cassie could understand, never came into the house anymore; he stuck to working strictly outside, so there’d be no more peeping.
And Roy still hadn’t realized the coincidence that any time Cassie happened to be in the Crossroads Tavern, he won big at the billiards table. And when she
wasn’t
there, he pretty much sucked. Of course, he’d never know why.
wasn’t
there, he pretty much sucked. Of course, he’d never know why.
Indeed, life was returning to normal, or at least as normal as could be hoped for.
“Hey, look,” Via said, “here comes that asshole again.”
Cassie, from her bar stool, glanced at the door, and in walked Chester with a black eye and bandage on his nose.
“Want me to have some fun with him?” Via asked. “I’ll kick him right in the stomach.”
The tiny cut on Cassie’s hand would make that possible to their sheer delight. “Let’s wait and see if he acts up first,” she told Via.
“What’s that?” the towering barkeep asked. “You say somethin’, Cassie?”
“Just talking to myself,” she said.
Chester, obviously ashamed, walked right up to Roy at the table and handed him some cash. “Here’s your money from the other night, Roy,” he said, embarrassed. “I’m really sorry ‘bout what happened. Some things never change, ya know? Beer plus Chester equals asshole.”
“No problem, Chester,” Roy said. The two men shook hands. “Wanna game?” Roy asked, gesturing the lit table.
“Hail no!” Chester said, and then everyone laughed.
Can you believe this?
Cassie thought.
I’m a Goth girl hanging out in a redneck bar... and I’m fitting in.
Cassie thought.
I’m a Goth girl hanging out in a redneck bar... and I’m fitting in.
It was funny. Cassie was really beginning to like this place.
“There’s my good luck charm,” Roy said and came back to the bar. “Can you believe all this money I’m winnin’?”
“You’re a hot shot, Roy.”
He nodded over his beer. “Yeah, it looks like I am.” There’d be no romance between them, but Cassie really liked Roy. In fact, he was her best friend out here.
Her best friend that was
alive,
that is.
alive,
that is.
Via scuffed around invisibly. “He’s got the hots for you, you know?”
“I know,” Cassie said, but then instantly thought,
Damn! I keep doing it!
Damn! I keep doing it!
Roy looked at her oddly. “You know what?”
“Nothing.”
Roy sipped more beer, suddenly shaking his head.
“Something wrong?”
“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he said. “Been buggin’ me for days, and I probably shouldn’t even tell ya.”
“What, Roy?”
“Aw, you’d think I was whacked in the head.”
“Probably not. Try me.”
Then he laughed under his breath. “I had the weirdest dream the other night, damn stupidest dream I ever had in my life.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah? I dreamed that ... I was helpin’ you dig up a grave....”
Via laughed out loud.
“Kind of a strange thing to dream, don’t you think?”
“And you want to know whose grave it was?”
“Hmm, let me guess. Uh ... Fenton Blackwell’s?”
Roy sat up straight. “Yeah!”
“You’re right, Roy. You’re whacked in the head.”
Cassie remained in the bar a while longer, drinking Cokes and watching Roy—with Via’s help—rule the billiards table. But eventually the country and western jukebox began to get on her nerves; she could only take so much of The Judds. Some Nine Inch Nails was what she needed, or maybe even some Aldinoch.
“Gotta go now, Roy. See ya later.”
“Yeah, see ya!”
“The poor sap’ll probably lose it all now,” Via said when they left the tavern.
“He’ll learn.”
“You ever gonna tell him?”
“Naw.”
The hot summer night teemed in moonlight and cricket sounds. They began to walk back up the path, toward Blackwell Hall. They dawdled back, Cassie’s mind aswarm with doubts.
She knew she had some options to consider but she was pretty sure that her mind was made up now.
“I guess you’ve been thinking about—well, you know.”
“Yeah,” Cassie divulged.
“Have you decided?”
“Going back to the Mephistopolis? Risking death and eternal imprisonment? Returning to Hell as Lucifer’s worst enemy to help a Fallen Angel who looks like Brad Pitt wage war against him, and being hunted by every Usher, Golem, Conscript, and any other gross-out homicidal hellborn creature in the city? Yeah, I’ve decided.” Cassie gulped. “I’m going to go back.”
“Cool! Via celebrated, hugging her.
What else could she do?
“Lissa’s still there somewhere, and, damn it, I’m going to find her.”
“Yeah, and we’ll have a friggin’
blast!”
blast!”
Cassie wasn’t sure about that part. But she was an Etheress. She was the First Saint of Hell.
Might as well go with the flow. It beats sitting around on my butt all day watching MTV and a bunch of White Zombie videos.
“Use the power,” Via said. “It’s yours. You can make history.”
Cassie supposed she could.
Sudden footsteps crunching down the dark path startled them for a moment, but then Via said, “There she is!”
It was Hush who approached them, short and spooky with her wan white face and flowing black dress.
“Hi, Hush,” Cassie said.
“Hey, guess what?” Via excitedly informed. “Cassie’s decided that she’s gonna go back to the city!”
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