The Church of Dead Girls (24 page)

Jesse and Shannon turned off their lights, went outside, and waited. Soon they heard Jeb's Blazer coming down the street. It parked and Hark and the others got out. The brothers lived in a large house that had been broken up into student apartments. The front door was open. Hark, Ernie, and Jimmy went inside and Jeb waited by his car. After a few minutes Hark came out again.

“They're not there either.”

“Chickenshits,” said Jeb.

All four got back in the Blazer. As Jeb started the car, Jesse and Shannon ran up on either side. They had cans of black spray paint and began spraying the windows. Jeb yelled and pulled away from the curb. Hark shouted to him to stop. Jesse sprayed the front windshield. Jeb slammed the Blazer up over the curb and hit the brakes. Jesse and Shannon spray-painted the back window. Jeb, Hark, and the others scrambled out of the car, but Shannon and Jesse were running toward the campus. The four men gave chase but they were too full of beer to run fast and they didn't know the area. Shannon and Jesse led them onto the college grounds and disappeared.

Hark stopped in the quad with his friends around him. They could see no movement, although they heard music coming from the student center, where the Halloween dance was being held.

“I want to get back to my car before they get back there and set it on fire,” said Jeb.

“Jesus,” said Hark. “Jesus!”

When they got back to the Blazer, they found the windshield smashed and a cinder block sitting on the front seat. The bits of glass on the dashboard looked like diamonds in the light of the streetlight.

W
hat Hark Powers saw as a sense of justice was in fact a sense of retribution, with himself as the punishing force. He saw himself as a weapon set in motion by the hand of righteousness. His intention on Halloween had been to punish those who had done him wrong. And the more his intention was frustrated, the more indignant he became. The fact that Aaron wasn't at home, that Barry's mother had jabbed him with an umbrella, that Leon refused to open his door, that Jesse and Shannon had painted the Blazer's windows and broken the windshield—all this, he understood, had been done to make him mad. By ten in the evening Hark had tied himself into a fat knot of anger.

Ernie Corelli and Jimmy Feldman wanted to go back to Bud's Tavern. Jeb wanted to go home. His truck, as he called it, was busted up and he'd had enough. Hark saw his control over his cronies sliding away. But he also had a sense of widespread wickedness, which came in part from the time he had spent helping the Friends of Sharon Malloy. Something was dreadfully wrong and Hark didn't want to go home until he had done something about it.

“Let's drive by the Arab's house,” he suggested.

So they drove over to Maple Street. It was past ten and the streets were deserted. It had gotten colder and the rain seemed to have some substance, falling slush. The broken front window of the Blazer was a great open space. Rain and cold air poured through it. Jeb and Hark hunched down and Jeb had the heater on full blast. All four were drinking beer and the ice chest in back was nearly empty. To warm themselves up they also had a fifth of Seagram's Seven Crown.

Chihani's house was dark but his car was in the driveway.

“I bet he didn't pass out candy,” said Jeb.

“He probably sat upstairs with the lights off,” said Ernie.

“Jacking off,” said Jimmy.

“Park in front,” said Hark.

Jeb parked and nicked off the lights but he didn't turn off the engine. Rain pattered on the dashboard.

“What're you going to do?” asked Ernie.

“You'll see,” said Hark. He had pushed his mask up onto his forehead. Now he pulled it down again. He stared at Chihani's house and the red Citroën.

“You think he's awake?” asked Jimmy.

“I don't care if he's awake or asleep,” said Hark. Reaching into the backseat, he took one of the bats they had used for mailbox baseball. “Don't turn off the truck,” he said. He opened the door and got out.

“Hot damn,” said Ernie. He grabbed the other bat and climbed out the back. His Mickey Mouse mask gave him a look of immense cheer.

Hark walked up the driveway toward the Citroën. He had had a lot to drink and he weaved a little. Several maples stood along the far side of the drive and another stood in Chihani's front yard. The neighbor's house was also dark, although lights were on in other houses. Ernie hurried after Hark. He kept chuckling to himself. He didn't walk straight either. The other two watched from the Blazer.

Reaching the Citroën, Hark waited for Ernie to catch up. The car was pointed toward the street. Hark stood by the driver's door, holding the bat loosely in his hand. He stepped back, gripped the bat with both hands, and swung it toward the front window of the Citroën. The noise of the glass shattering was dulled by the sound of the rain. Hark hit the windshield again, knocking the glass into the front seats.

“Hot damn,” said Ernie. He swung his bat and smashed the right headlight. This made a louder noise, almost a clang. The rim of the headlight sprang off and rolled across the grass like a small silver hoop.

Hark swung the bat at the rear window. The window starred and Hark hit it again, knocking the glass inward, then poking at the remnants with the head of the bat. There were books on the rear shelf and they were sprinkled with beads of glass. Ernie smashed the other headlight. Hark began smashing at the side windows. He would crouch down in a hitter's stance, then swing violently. He hit the side mirror, knocking it off so that it skittered along the driveway toward the street. Ernie knocked off the mirror on the passenger's side.

In the next few minutes the two men became completely caught up in the destruction, so when Chihani appeared neither Hark nor Ernie knew if he had come out the front door or had run around from behind the house. Even with his limp he moved quickly, swinging out the leg with the oversized shoe and pushing himself forward on his cane. He wore his beret and a dark sport coat. As he approached the two men, he raised his cane.

“Stop that!” he shouted.

Hark and Ernie were sufficiently startled that they stopped and turned toward Chihani. Both swayed a little.

“This is entirely unacceptable!” shouted Chihani. His voice was high and his accent seemed thicker. He was taller than either Hark or Ernie, as well as thinner. He was also sober.

Hark began to say something rude and dismissive, but as he turned, Chihani swung his cane, striking Hark across the face.

“Yeow!” said Hark, stumbling back and holding his cheek.

Ernie smashed his bat down on the hood of the car, which made a hollow clanging noise.

“You are no better than thugs!” shouted Chihani. He swung his cane at Ernie, striking him across the back. Ernie staggered forward. Chihani struck him across his plastic Mickey Mouse mask, cracking it in half. The rain and wet leaves made the driveway slippery. Ernie lost his balance, slipped, and fell backward. His mask slid down around his neck. He sat on the wet driveway holding his shoulder. Chihani hit him again on the head and Ernie yelped.

From the Blazer, Jimmy Feldman and Jeb Hendricks watched Chihani attacking their friends. They were startled by his speed. They couldn't imagine how he moved so fast. They kept waiting for Chihani to stop but he didn't stop.

“We got to get out of here,” said Jeb.

“We can't leave them.” Jimmy had difficulty speaking. He slowly screwed the top back on the fifth of Seagram's Seven.

“The cops will be here any second.”

“Jesus, that Arab's beating both of them.” Jimmy climbed out of the backseat and ran toward the others in a zigzagging lope. Ernie still sat on the ground, holding his head. Chihani had again struck Hark across the face with his cane and Hark fell against the side of the car.

Jimmy scooped up the bat that was lying on the ground next to Ernie. He had pulled down his grasshopper mask and had trouble seeing out of the eyeholes. As he tried to focus on Chihani, he tripped over Ernie's feet and stumbled toward the Citroën. He put out his hands to catch himself and his hands slid across the wet metal of the hood. Chihani swung his cane, striking Jimmy across the back of his head so his grasshopper mask flew off.

“Hey,” shouted Jimmy.

Hark rubbed his face with one hand and hung on to the baseball bat with the other. Chihani swung at him again and Hark blocked the cane with the bat. He felt dazed and he couldn't get over how fast the Arab moved. The cane came at him again, hitting his knee so that Hark stumbled sideways. Hark thought of the humiliation of one foreigner in a beret beating up the three of them. It seemed like a form of cheating. He was amazed by the world's unfairness. He swung out with the bat but didn't hit anything. His mask had slipped down, partly covering his eyes, so that it was hard to see.

Jimmy pushed himself off the hood of the Citroën and swung his bat at Chihani, hitting him in the arm. Chihani smashed his cane across Jimmy's shoulder and Jimmy fell backward, stumbling again across Ernie's legs.

Hark saw that Chihani had his back to him. He swung at Chihani, hitting him in the shoulder. Chihani was immediately on him again, swinging his cane and pushing him back against the car. Hark managed to block several of the blows but he was still struck across the face.

Jimmy got to his feet and again struck Chihani across the arm. By now Jeb had left the Blazer and ran toward them across the wet leaves. He grabbed Ernie by the collar and began pulling him to his feet. His over-the-head ghoul mask didn't look like a mask. It looked real. But Jeb also had a problem with the eyeholes. As he was pulling Ernie to his feet, he was struck across the back of the head. He stumbled forward, dropping Ernie and falling on top of him. Jimmy swung at Chihani again and missed.

Hark pulled off his mask and his baseball cap and threw them to the ground. He saw Chihani driving Jimmy Feldman backward as Jeb and Ernie struggled to get to their feet. He couldn't get over how this Arab was beating them. Hark pushed himself away from the car, got a better grip on the bat, and ran a few steps at Chihani, lifting the bat. He swung hard, aiming at Chihani's shoulders. Chihani heard him and began to turn. He lifted his cane but couldn't block the blow. He received the full force of the bat across the back of his neck. His beret popped off his head like a flipped coin. He staggered forward a few feet, then fell to the ground. His cane slid across the wet leaves.

“Fuckin' son of a bitch,” said Hark. He kicked Chihani in the ribs but the man made no sound.

“Let's get the hell out of here,” said Jeb. He got to his feet. Ernie was on all fours like a dog. His broken Mickey Mouse mask was twisted around onto the side of his face so that it looked as if he had two faces. Jimmy Feldman was sitting in the driveway rubbing his head. His grasshopper mask lay nearby.

Hark kicked Chihani again, kicked him hard enough to move his body.

“Come on,” said Jeb. “Leave him alone.” He pulled Ernie to his feet. Ernie began to stagger toward the house. Jeb grabbed his arm and turned him back toward the street. Ernie staggered about five feet and abruptly vomited. The Mickey Mouse mask fell off his head and Ernie vomited onto it.

“Jesus,” said Jeb.

Jimmy Feldman stood up and swayed back and forth. He picked up the baseball bat and swung it at the car but missed. He spun around and fell down again. Hark dragged him to his feet.

Jeb took Ernie's arm and led him toward the Blazer.

“My head hurts and my stomach hurts,” said Ernie.

“Let's get that fucker,” said Jimmy.

“We did that already,” said Jeb. “Let's go home.” He pushed Ernie into the Blazer, then ran back for the others. After another minute, he had Jimmy in the backseat. Hark was standing in the yard staring at Chihani's house. He had unzipped his pants and he was peeing. The light from the streetlight glittered on the yellow arc. The rain was increasingly turning to snow. Chihani still lay on the ground. Hark finished peeing, zipped his pants, and picked up both bats so he held one in each hand.

“Let's smash up his house,” said Hark.

“We've got to go,” said Jeb. “The police are going to come.” He pulled Hark toward the street.

Hark yanked away and swung one of the bats at him, missing. “Leave me alone.”

“Jesus, you're as crazy as he is. Come on!”

Jeb led the way back to the street and Hark followed, but slowly. He kept glancing back at the house as if he wanted to do more damage. Jeb pushed him into the car. Jimmy and Ernie were in the backseat moaning and holding their heads. Hark was still staring at Chihani's house. His door was open.

“Shut the door, Hark,” said Jeb.

Hark didn't move. Jeb jumped out of the car, ran around the front, slammed Hark's door, then ran around the car again. He couldn't understand why the police hadn't arrived already. He felt tremendous gratitude for that. He felt lucky.

“We going to Bud's?” asked Hark.

Jeb didn't say anything. He was going to take his friends home, then go home himself. His evening was over. Ernie had the dry heaves in the back, hacking and choking. Jeb kept seeing Chihani lying in the front yard and he tried to push the image from his mind. He'll wake up, he kept thinking. He yanked off his ghoul mask. It was all sweaty inside. Jeb was the only one who hadn't lost his mask and he felt lucky about this as well. By the time he got everybody home it was snowing hard and the streets were covered. Jeb had about five inches of snow in his lap.

Houari Chihani lay in his front yard about fifteen feet from his car. The windows were smashed, the headlights were smashed, and there were dents in the hood. Hark's black mask lay by the passenger door. Jimmy's grasshopper mask lay in front of the car. In the middle of the yard, the two halves of the Mickey Mouse mask grinned up at the trees until the snow covered them completely.

The snow covered Chihani as well. About seven inches fell that night and in the morning Chihani was no more than a white mound. His cane had disappeared and so had the masks. The front seat of his car had filled with snow.

—

Every morning around six Irving Powell walked his chocolate Lab up Maple Street. The Lab's name was Sidney. Because of the hour, Powell never used a leash since no one else was about. And Sidney was well-behaved, always came when he was called, though he liked the snow and liked rooting his nose through it, then shaking himself. It was dark and the streetlights were still on.

Powell saw Chihani's Citroën and saw the windows had been smashed. He knew the car and knew Chihani's history, as did everyone else in Aurelius. Sidney was sniffing at a mound covered by the snow. Powell called his dog but the dog kept fussing with whatever he had found. Powell walked toward it. Sidney had pawed away some of the snow and Powell saw that it was one of those Halloween dummies people put in their yards. Powell didn't like Halloween. The previous evening had been a nuisance from start to finish. He ran out of candy early and had turned out his lights. Then his garbage cans had disappeared.

“Come on, Sidney,” he called.

The dog kept pawing and snuffling the Halloween dummy.

Irving Powell hurried up to the dog and grabbed Sidney's collar. He disliked trespassing on people's lawns and was angry with Sidney. “Bad dog,” he said. He glanced at the Halloween dummy. The snow had fallen off the dummy's face. The dummy's eyes were open and he seemed to be staring at Irving Powell.