Ghost Light (21 page)

What the hell’s going on in there?
she wondered, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to open the door and see.

Holding her breath, she clenched her hand into a fist and was just about to knock on his door when, from inside the room, there came a low, keening cry that rose rapidly up the scale until it was a high screech of terror that drilled into her ears.

“
h-h-h-e-e-e-l-L-L-P-P-P-P-M-M-M-E-E-E!
”

In a flash, she spun the doorknob and, shouldering open the bedroom door, burst into the room. She was only vaguely aware that the shifting glow of blue light had vanished in the split-second between the time she opened the door and slapped on the wall switch.

“Billy! Billy!” she shouted. “Hey, it’s all right!”

She winced from the sudden blast of light from the overhead and the sharp sting of panic that filled her, vibrating every nerve and muscle.

Billy was sitting bolt upright on the bed, his face had gone pale, almost sheet white in spite of the summer tan he had gotten while playing outside with his new friends. His eyes were wide and staring, and his mouth hung open, a perfect, black circular “O.” His hands were clenched into fists that gripped the bed sheet and held it tightly against his thin, heaving chest.

Cindy rushed over to him and sat down on the edge of his bed, twisting around so she could hug him with both arms, but he was wild-eyed and frantic.

“
Who are you? Where is she? What are you doing here? How’d you get in here?
” he screamed so loud it sounded as if his throat was about to rip. Cindy hushed him, fearful that he would wake up his sister in the next room.

“Easy now, honey. Just take it easy,” she cooed. “It’s just me.”

But Billy either didn’t hear her or else he didn’t believe her. He shied away from her and started punching at her, his arms flailing wildly in front of him. The blows rained down on Cindy’s arms and shoulders, but he didn’t have enough force behind them to really hurt her. She pulled him even closer into her embrace and wouldn’t let him go until he calmed down. She stroked the hair behind his ear and whispered softly to him.

“Easy, now, honey… just take it easy now. I’m with you.”

His body felt like it was wound up to the breaking point. Violent tremors shook him and she could feel his muscles convulsing. His breathing whistled high and fast in his throat, like he was having an asthmatic attack.

Jesus Christ, what’s happening to him? Is he having a seizure or something?

“Leave me alone! What were you doing?” he said with only a slight measure of calm in his voice.

Cindy choked back her own panic as she clutched him closer to her. He continued to shudder, but the worst of it—whatever it was—seemed to be over. Second by second, she could feel his body unwinding as his breathing slowed.

“There… there,” she said soothingly. “You must have been having a bad dream.”

“No! I saw you there. You mean you weren’t—” His voice choked off as sharply as if someone were choking him.

“Don’t try to say anything,” Cindy said. “You were just having a bad dream.”

“No I wasn’t,” Billy said in a strangled whisper. “It wasn’t a dream. I saw—you were—there was
someone
here in my room with me.”

“No, it was just something you imagined.” Cindy said.

In the back of her mind, she was still wondering what might have caused that shifting blue light, but she pushed aside any such thoughts and concentrated only on soothing Billy.

After several seconds, he seemed to be completely awake, and he pulled himself out of Cindy’s hug. He looked at her, his face still pale and waxy looking, but there was a faint blush of color returning to his cheeks. It was his eyes—his eyes that drew Cindy’s attention and sent a ripple of fear through her. They were wide and glassy, staring as though he was still looking at whatever it was that had frightened him so badly. “Here, lemme get you a drink of water,” she said as she stood up from the bed. An old floorboard creaked underfoot, and the sound made her jump. “You… you’ll be all right here for a minute, won’t you?”

Billy bit his lower lip and nodded quickly. When he tried to say, “Sure,” all that came out of his mouth was a twisted, croaking sound.

Cindy left the room quickly and raced into the bathroom, where she let the water run until it was nice and cold before filling a paper cup. When she brought it back to Billy’s room, he took it from her and drank it down in two greedy gulps.

“Umm, that’s good,” he said, smacking his lips as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at her and forced a smile, but it wasn’t very convincing.

Cindy wasn’t sure what to do next, and she felt ridiculously helpless. Over the past several weeks, she had gotten them all over some major hurdles, yet now she was at a loss in handling a “typical” childhood problem like a nightmare. Should she ask him what his dream was? Or should she just let it drop and not remind him of it? Probably the most important thing right now was to get him settled back to sleep. On the other hand, she had felt better after telling Alice everything, so she figured it might be best to get him to talk about it.

“So,” she said, once Billy appeared to be much more calm, “is it anything you want to talk about?”

Billy considered for a moment, his eyes clouding over as he looked past her, focusing on some middle distance. For an instant, it seemed to Cindy as though his face paled again, and his hands involuntarily clenched into fists, crushing the paper cup. A mystified expression filled his face. He wrinkled his mouth and squinted one eye as he thought.

“You… you didn’t come in here… I mean, into my room earlier tonight, did you?”

Cindy shook her head but didn’t say anything when she remembered the blue light she had seen shining from under his door. It was strange—now she wasn’t sure about seeing that light, as if it hadn’t been there at all. “No, I was just heading to bed myself. I was right outside your door when you called out.”

Billy’s mouth twisted into a sideways curl as he reflected silently for a moment.

“No, I … I don’t know,” he said in a low, hushed voice, almost as though he were afraid that someone else might overhear him. “I— It must have been a dream, but it seemed so… so
real
.”

“
What
seemed so real?” Cindy asked as worry filled her with a dull, throbbing ache.

Billy shook his head as though mystified. “I dunno… I mean, I thought it was you who was in here, but I
know
there was
someone
here… a lady, I think, and she—” He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, she was, like, leaning over my bed and singing… singing a song to me.”

Cindy smiled tightly. “It must have been a dream because I was standing right outside your door, honey, and honest to God, I didn’t hear a thing.”

But I did SEE something!
she thought, and the surge of fear winding up inside her got suddenly stronger.
I sure as hell saw SOMETHING!

She wanted to believe that it had just been a light coming from outside—maybe just a passing police car with its flashers on, or a streetlight, or maybe just moonlight—but she wasn’t convinced. How could any light from outside the building have come in at such a low angle that it would shine underneath the door and clear across the hallway floor? And the way it had shifted back and forth. She knew there was no light in Billy’s room that could have shined like that, not with that weird, blue glow.

“It … it was a song,” Billy said. “I … I don’t really know what it was, but it seemed like—I dunno, kinda familiar, like… like.” He shook his head in exasperation. “Jeeze, I dunno.”

“Well, what was the song?” Cindy asked.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, she felt incredibly dissociated from herself and was surprised that she could speak at all. Chills ran up and down her back like the lingering touch of cold fingers.

Again, Billy shook his head and, looking past—or through—her, he started singing in a high, fragile voice that was surprisingly on key.

“ ‘I see the moon, and the moon sees me. I see its light shining down on me—’ ”

By the third line, Cindy joined in. Making no attempt to harmonize with him, she just sang along in a childlike, sing-song voice.

“ ‘Somewhere I know in the deep dark night. Someone shines on me with a guiding light.’ ”

As Cindy sang with him, tears suddenly filled her eyes, burning before they started streaming down her cheeks. Caught in a sudden rush of emotion, she leaned forward and hugged Billy, holding him so tightly she almost squeezed the air out of him. Strong rushes of emotion filled her as the words and tune brought back vivid childhood memories of herself and her sister, listening as their grandmother sang this song to them and rocked them back and forth in her creaking old rocking chair. Cindy even experienced a strong memory of smells, a combination of aromas she hadn’t sensed in such a long time—rose-scented powder, the lingering aroma of fresh-brewed coffee, and the fresh-air smell of clothes that had been dried outside on a clothesline. All of these smells she associated with her grandmother’s house.

“That was… that was mine and your mother’s favorite song back when we were kids,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. She sat back and stared up at the ceiling for a moment, wiping away her tears with the flats of both hands. “Our grandmother—Grammy Clayton—used to sit us in her rocking chair and sing that to us whenever we’d sleep over at her house.”

Billy sat there in bed and watched her silently for a moment. Then, almost as if he was embarrassed that she was crying in front of him, he cleared his throat and, bracing himself, said, “Yeah, well, I don’t remember my mom ever singing it to me when I was little.”

After a moment, Cindy caught herself and, looking at him squarely, said, “Well, then, I guess you must have heard it somewhere else.”

“Umm,” Billy replied, frowning as he looked at her. “I guess so.”

She glanced at her wristwatch. “Good Lord, it’s way past midnight. It’s time for you to settle down and get some sleep.”

Her hands were trembling, but she hoped Billy didn’t notice as she fluffed up his pillow and slid him back under his covers. In spite of the warm night air, she tucked him in cozily with the blanket pulled up under his chin. She glanced quickly at the window, hoping to see something outside that could have caused that glow of blue light; but the shade was drawn down to the sill. After kissing Billy on the forehead and whispering a good night, she got up to leave the room.

“Uh, could you leave the light on… at least for a little while?” Billy asked.

“Sure thing,” Cindy said. “I’ll leave the door open a crack, too, if you want.”

“Yeah,” Billy said, nodding. He folded his hands across his chest, settled his head on the pillow, and, sighing deeply, closed his eyes.

Cindy watched him for a few seconds, then stepped out into the hall, easing the door halfway shut. As she walked down the hallway to her own bedroom she hummed “I See the Moon” softly to herself, but she wasn’t even conscious of doing it. Her mind was preoccupied, caught up in a turmoil of nostalgia and grief as she remembered fragments of her own lost childhood and her long-dead grandmother, and the more recent pain of the loss of her sister. For her, sleep didn’t come soon or easily. She was awake for several hours, lying on her side and staring at the soft yellow glow of light coming from the hallway as a confusion of thoughts filled her.

Off to School

I
t was early Wednesday morning, the first week of September and the first day of school.

The cold, hard knot of tension Billy usually felt in the pit of his stomach on the first day of school was worse than it had ever been… a lot worse. The skin on his fresh-washed face felt as tight as a drum, and his heart was racing so fast he could feel his pulse, throbbing in his neck as he followed Krissy and Aunt Cindy out to the car. He wanted to take a deep breath of the cool, autumn-crisp air, but it only made him shiver with apprehension.

Without a word, he slung his backpack onto the floor of the car, then slid into the back seat. Sighing heavily, he snapped the seat belt over his lap before Aunt Cindy had to remind him even once. After checking to see that both kids were belted, Aunt Cindy started up the car and backed out into the Street. Shadows from the maple trees along the driveway rippled like dark water over the hood of the car.

Other than Mike and Chris, the two friends he had already made in the neighborhood, he knew absolutely nobody at Pine Knoll Elementary. The principal, Mrs. Castine, sure as heck didn’t count. He was trying to remember where certain rooms were from the brief tour Mrs. Castine had given him of the school two weeks ago, but his mind was drawing nothing but blanks. He felt so nervous, he was afraid he’d be asking to go to the bathroom every fifteen minutes, but he didn’t even remember where the boys’ room was. He supposed he should feel at least some measure of security in having his aunt drive them to school, at least for this first day, but he didn’t like the idea. He thought it was going to make him look like a pansy, and he didn’t want any of the kids who might see him to start teasing the “new-kid.” Sure, Krissy would need a little help getting settled in her kindergarten class, but he wished to heaven his aunt had just let him walk to school with Chris and Mike, like they had planned.

Oh, well, he thought, maybe tomorrow.

But he had to get through today, first.

Pine Knoll Elementary!

Every time Billy phrased the name of the school in his mind, it sent a chill zipping through his gut. He stared blankly out the window as they drove up Coyne Street and took a right turn onto Fairmont Street. He ducked down below the edge of the car window when, up ahead, he saw Chris and Mike, walking with three other boys he didn’t recognize. He stayed out of sight until the boys were far behind.

Jeez
…
Pine Knoll Elementary!

A “little kids” school, as his buddies referred to it. Next year, they would all be starting at the Warren Middle School, on Forest Avenue. For some reason, his friends seemed to think that was a big deal, but Billy could just imagine the pit in his stomach
that
would cause.

But—God—this was bad enough.

Here he was, in Portland, Maine, more than a thousand miles away from his father, his friends, and the only home he had ever known. He was living with his Aunt Cindy, who had stolen him and his sister away from their father. And his mother had been dead for more than two months, now. He tried so hard
never
to think about her. The pain of losing her was like nothing else he had ever experienced. More nights than he would ever admit to
anyone
, he would lie awake in bed, crying his eyes out because he missed her so badly.

And the dreams…

The dreams he had about her were absolutely
horrible
! Sometimes she came to him in his dreams, looking all happy and glowing; but other times, her face would be peeling apart with rot and squirming with the maggots and bugs that were burrowing in her dead flesh. In spite of how miserable their family life had been—mostly because his father and mother seemed always to be yelling at each other, or them—he missed her and the slight sense of security he’d had at home. Living in a town where he knew only two other people sure as hell wasn’t any better!

But he knew he couldn’t let any of his feelings show to Aunt Cindy or Krissy or
anyone
! One of the few things his father had taught him, in between the yelling and the beatings, was that you can
never
let show how much you hurt… especially boys, because big boys don’t cry even when their drunk fathers punch them in the stomach so hard they puke.

Yeah, big boys don’t cry… except maybe late at night, when they miss their dead mother.

“Now, Billy, do you remember where to go?”

Aunt Cindy’s voice pulled him away from the downward spiral of his private thoughts. He looked out the window and almost fainted when he saw that she had turned into the school parking lot.

This is it. Showdown time!
he thought with a bone-deep chill.

His body was stiff, almost unbendable as he leaned forward and picked up his backpack, placing it carefully on his lap. His right hand gripped the door handle as if he were going to snap the door open and start running even before the car stopped moving.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. I remember,” he said, cringing inwardly at the lie. “You—uh, you’re probably going to walk Krissy up to her classroom, aren’t you?”

“Well, we have plenty of time,” Aunt Cindy said. “I can help you find your room, too. It’s Mrs. Morrison’s class. Room number—”

“I know! I know where it is,” Billy snapped. “Room twelve.”

As soon as Aunt Cindy stopped the car, Billy unfastened the seat belt and popped the car door open. When his feet touched the pavement, he thought his legs were going to give out on him so for a moment he just stood there, staring up at the brick-fronted building. The sunlight stung his eyes, but he told himself that he wasn’t close to crying. And so what if he was? None of the school busses had arrived yet, and except for three kids way over on the swing set, there wasn’t anyone around to see him. He leaned down and glanced back inside the car at his aunt, who was fussing with Krissy’s hair. He waved to her and said, “Well, guess I’ll see yah later.”

“No, wait Billy,” Aunt Cindy said, looking over at him with an expression of concern. She got out and came around the front of the car, but he started up the walkway, hoping to put as much distance as he could between them.

“Billy! Wait!” Aunt Cindy called out.

He knew she wouldn’t leave Krissy alone in the car and start after him. She was going to be mad at him for this, she might even ground him from Nintendo or something, but he desperately wanted not to be seen with her.

“See you later,” he called out.

“School gets out at quarter past two,” Aunt Cindy yelled, cupping her hands to her mouth. “I’ll be in this same spot to pick you up, okay?”

Halfway up the walkway, Billy hesitated; then he turned around and looked at her. His voice felt like a hot coal, trapped inside his chest, but he shouted back to her, “Don’t worry. I’ll probably walk home with Chris and Mike.”

She started to say something else but fell silent when he turned and strode purposefully toward the front door of the school.

This is just like going to school back home, he told himself. At least Mike will be in the same class with me, so there’s nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Just handle it, and—whatever you do—don’t ever let anyone see how you really feel!

2

T
he seasons seemed to change from summer into autumn overnight. Alex figured that the August heat wave must have been keeping a pretty close eye on the calendar, because the day after Labor Day, an autumn chill tinged the air and dropped the temperature low enough so, at least early in the morning when he went out to his car, he could see his breath whenever he exhaled.

Every morning, after a leisurely breakfast at Denny’s, Alex would spend a good portion of his day driving around the city, just looking. Actually, Portland was quite a bit larger than he had expected it would be. It certainly wasn’t as built-up or as spread out as Omaha was, but it was damned big enough. On his first day’s excursion around town he had picked up a detailed street map of the city, but after a week of driving up and down every side street he could find he had pretty much given up hope of ever spotting Cindy or one of the kids by chance.

If only he could have gotten Cindy to tell him where she lived when he had called, pretending to be an encyclopedia salesman, or if only that by-the-book bitch at the telephone company had given him the address, then he wouldn’t have to be wasting his goddamned time like this.

He calmed down by telling himself that it was just a matter of time before he found them, and then it would be just a matter of time before he decided what to do with them. But he knew he had to come up with a better plan than just driving around, hoping to bump into them. There had to be
something
else he could do!

On Wednesday afternoon, while he was eating lunch at the Ground Round restaurant near the Maine Mall, he noticed a lot of mothers with their children and he overheard a couple of conversations—and arguments—about school clothes the kids wanted to buy but which the mothers said were either too expensive or too impractical. Three times, he heard almost the exact same sentence: “I’m
certainly
not going to
spend
that much for a pair of
sneakers!
” While he sat there, nursing his beer and munching on a burger, an idea suddenly struck him—

Back to school!

Jesus Christ, that’s it!

He didn’t know Cindy all that well, but if she was as nervous as he hoped she was, he figured she would try like hell to have everything appear as “normal” as possible with the kids, so no doubt she would have to register them for school. Debbie used to handle all the bullshit with school, so Alex couldn’t remember for sure, but he thought that Krissy might be starting kindergarten this year. Billy was probably entering fifth grade.

Alex realized that it wouldn’t be difficult to locate all the elementary schools in Portland. Then all he would have to do is stake out each school, maybe a day or two at a time so he wouldn’t draw anyone’s attention, and wait until he saw one of them. Simple as shit!

He’d get his kids back and maybe even get an opportunity to kick Cindy’s sorry ass.

He smiled a self-satisfied smile as he cleaned his plate and drained his beer. Then he paid his tab, leaving a generous tip because he was feeling so goddamned good about this idea, and walked out to the phone booth in the lobby. He looked up the School Department under the City of Portland, and tore out the page that listed each of the local schools. Then, as
 
precaution, he checked the map in the front of the directory and tore out the pages that listed the schools in each of the towns that surrounded Portland—South Portland, Scarborough, Westbrook, Gorham, and Falmouth.

Christ All-Mighty, maybe this is going to be easier than I thought!

He chuckled softly to himself as he folded the pages and jammed them into his jeans pocket, and then walked out into the bright September sunshine.

“Yes-sir-ee,” he said, having to struggle not to laugh out loud as he walked across the parking lot to his car. “This is going to be almost
too
fuckin’ easy!”

3

M
ore than a week later, on a Friday afternoon in the second week of September, Alex was parked alongside the curb on Deering Avenue in front of Pine Knoll Elementary School when he saw her. The sky was gray and lowering, and a steady rain hissed like baby snakes against the windshield. He kept the car idling so the defroster would work, and every now and then he’d switch on the wipers to keep his view clear.

At first, he couldn’t believe his eyes, and he thought for a heart-dropping instant that he must have only imagined it was her. He’d only caught a glimpse of the side of her face, and after watching at three other schools through the end of last week and all this week, it hadn’t taken long for the throngs of school children to all start looking alike—especially when they were lost inside the shiny hoods of their raincoats.

Alex’s pulse started pounding heavily inside his head, and he was filled with a euphoric rush as he held his breath and, leaning forward over the steering wheel, watched the little girl. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, not quite daring to believe that, after all this time and everything he’d been through, it really could be her. She was wearing a bright red raincoat and her face looked like a pale, full moon, peering out from inside the yellow-lined hood. A small, light purple knapsack was slung on her back as she moved down the walkway, the slowest in the swirling mass of kids who were pouring out the front doors and racing for the waiting school buses.

“Mother-
fucker,
“Alex whispered, unable to believe what he was seeing.

He felt a strong urge to get out of the car and run over there and grab her on the spot, but he fought it down. There was no reason to blow it now. If it wasn’t her… or even if it was, he sure as hell wasn’t going to be forced into doing anything hasty or stupid.

No, it had taken him this long to find her; he could wait it Out a little longer and make damned sure this was Krissy before he did anything.