Part 27 (1/2)

And what the h.e.l.l was that crack about playing with himself all weekend?

How about if he took Lily and swung her into the side of Liz's smart-a.s.s mouth? No, he told himself. She's getting me p.i.s.sed off over nothing. She was just aggravated when she said that. There's something going on alright, Liz. It's not ghosts, but there is definitely something. You're acting too strange.

He grabbed the picture of Joey again and stared at it, comparing this two-dimensional boy to the son he had in his mind, the one he saw every day.

Yes, there was a difference. Joey was smaller in the picture, but he was how many months older now?

There was nothing wrong with Joey. And Jack knew there certainly wasn't anything wrong with himself. That only left Liz and he didn't have to think hard to make a list of her strange behavior lately.

He heard her in the kitchen banging things around as she made supper.

Then again, another part of him pointed out, you have to admit, you don't really see him that much. Not as much as Liz does.

All the more reason I'd notice changes in him, he reasoned. Because if the change is gradual, she won't see it if she's here all the time. But I would. It's like seeing a person gain or lose weight. If you're around them all the time, you don't notice the change until afterward when you're looking at the before picture.

He looked at the picture again, scanning the whole thing this time, looking at Joey, at the house, at the girl in the third floor window-- He blinked, furrowed his brow, and looked again.

Yes, there she was, faint and half-obscured by sun glare.

But I'll be d.a.m.ned if it doesn't look like there's someone standing in the window.

Is that what touched me last night?

Shut up. Nothing touched you. You dreamed that.

Right. I forgot.

He looked at the picture again and she was gone, if she'd ever been there. Yes, there was still something in the window, but now that he really studied it, it could be anything from reflected light to distortions in the gla.s.s or smudges on the camera lens when Liz snapped the photo, all of them made to look like a girl in the window by suggestions from Liz and Jack's subconscious working together.

Then he wondered if Liz had seen the image. Maybe unconsciously she had and that had been the seed of her ghost theory. That made sense, didn't it? And ever since, every noise or shadow suddenly becomes a ghost.

Yes, that was it. His wife wasn't crazy, just impressionable.

Everyone will suffer now.

You can't save yourself.

The words went through him via his spine, expelling themselves through the goose b.u.mps on his arms.

That had been his dream. And he'd heard it before, from the prank calls they'd gotten.

But that's all it was. Everything was fine. The world was normal. He'd figured it all out.

While his mind worked to convince him of this, Jack turned over and stared at Lily.

Liz had lost count of the dinners they'd eaten in silence.

While her frustration had begun to fade, she didn't know about Jack and if she tried to talk to him and he came back with a sarcastic or spiteful response, she knew she'd be right back to p.i.s.sed, too.

So she kept quiet, ate her pork chops, shoveled mashed potatoes into her mouth, and tried like crazy to think of something to say that would have nothing to do with ghosts.

Joey had eaten half of his mashed potatoes, a few kernels of corn, but hadn't touched the pork chop.

Jack and Liz noticed it simultaneously, and they both said, ”Joey, eat your supper.”

Joey laughed at the stereo quality, but still only brushed at the food with his fork. Jack and Liz chuckled, glanced at each other, then stopped and looked down at their plates.

Joey said, ”I'm full.”

”You're not full,” Jack said. ”Eat.”

Joey poked his fork at a piece of corn, but couldn't pierce it.

”Scoop it up,” Liz said, demonstrating with her own fork.

”I like doing it this way,” Joey said, then continued to try to spear the kernels that eluded him.

The silence dragged on another few minutes before Liz said, ”So did anyone say anything about you being gone so long today?”

”Who's to say anything?” Jack asked.

Liz shrugged. She cut off another bite of pork chop.

”No,” Jack said. ”The load wasn't leaving today, so everything went okay.”

”No calls from Aurora?”

”Oh no, they called. They always call. G.o.d forbid a day goes by that they don't call half a dozen times with three dozen things they need next day.”

”I can't believe no one says anything to them about that.” She chewed her pork chop. Joey slid some of his corn toward the potatoes, trying to hide them. ”Eat your corn,” she said.

”Why would they?” Jack said. ”They pay for the s.h.i.+pping and every part they get from us they have to buy, also. Each plant is individual and anything that goes from one place to another better come with a bill and a receipt.”

”Is that normal?”

”I don't know, really. It makes sense, I guess.”

”I kind of figured company property meant company property no matter where it was.”

”Maybe,” Jack said, shrugging. ”I don't know.”

After Jack and Liz finished their food and Joey had convinced them he was done, too, Liz sent Joey in to take a bath.

After she put the dishes in the sink and threw away what little was left, she headed for the bathroom.

Jack was in the bedroom, leaning against the headboard with Lily resting against his knee. When he saw her pa.s.s by, he leaned toward the hall.

”I'm sure he's capable of was.h.i.+ng his own hair.”

”I'm sure he is,” Liz said. ”He's also capable of drowning if he slips and falls.”