Part 11 (1/2)
The thing leaps across the room, knocking her to the floor and holding her with supernatural strength, digging its claws deep into her flesh.
The long phone cord wraps around her body as the creature easily flips her onto her back and squats on her chest, crus.h.i.+ng her with its weight. It reaches down between its feet, touching her chest. Her flesh sizzles and pops like fireplace logs as the impossibly hardened hand pushes into her chest and the air fills with the smell of burning human tissues. Too stunned to put up any resistance, Sara watches helplessly as it pulls out her beating heart.
”...I just wanted to see how it went at your grandparents' house over Thanksgiving,” Mummy said, leaving a message. ”I know how much you love your father, and it's really great that you have such a wonderful relations.h.i.+p with him. I guess you must be doing well in school these days, then. Not that I ever hear anything about it, of course.”
Sara managed to force her eyes open, discovering that she was lying on the floor in front of her dresser. Instinctively she sat up and raised both hands to her chest, feeling for a wound. The message went on.
”You've got to be a winner to survive in that family. Remember, even your father never did anything good enough for your grandparents. But that's what you'll have to deal with if you want to keep getting your father's money, I suppose. G.o.d knows I don't have any money to give you.
”I went out to see Aunt Hope and Uncle Bill in Arizona, you know,” Mummy went on. ”I hadn't heard from you, so I called them and invited myself for the holiday - you know, so I wouldn't have to be alone.” She paused. ”But they didn't pretend they wanted me there. I would've been better off by myself.” Her wet sniffle coming over the speaker sounded like something heavy sliding over a sandy floor.
Sara's hand found the receiver. ”Mummy? I'm so sorry. It's just ... My life's really a mess right now and I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm so sorry about Thanksgiving. I didn't realize it was coming up.”
Her mother's end had gone silent. Sara tried to push herself up into a sitting position but she couldn't muster the strength. She ended up on her back, trying to hold the phone against her ear with one limp hand.
”I ... I think I should move back home, Mummy. I'm not doing very well out here.”
Silence.
”Mummy?”
”Sara,” Mummy said, talking now in the haughty voice she used with waiters and gas station attendants. ”I'm surprised at you.”
”But, Mummy ... I'm really ... kind of in trouble. And I need help. And, you know ... I miss you.”
”This is not some flop house where you can just pop in and out whenever you like, Sara. I simply won't have it. You've known me too long to think I'd just let myself be taken advantage of like that.”
”I thought you wanted to see me more, Mummy. I thought- ”
”You just ignore me over the holiday and then you tell me you want to live in my house? I cried and cried over Thanksgiving. And you didn't even pick up the G.o.dd.a.m.ned phone. I'm sure your grandparents don't approve of you calling me, of course ...
”I didn't go there! I forgot the holiday! I didn't see anybody!”
” ... And now you want to live in my house? How dare you! You little s.h.i.+t! What? You think I don't know your father put you up to this? Is he paying you to spy on me? Well, you can just go snuggle up with him and give him a big, wet, sloppy kiss and tell him I said he can go f.u.c.k himself! You're just like him, nothing but- Sara lowered the phone into its cradle and allowed herself to lose consciousness again.
CHAPTER 8.
The Undead and the Dead SARA SHELTERED A Salem Light with her hand as Miguel lit it.
He nodded slowly. ”How are you tonight, Sara?”
”Great,” she said. ”I kind of like was.h.i.+ng dishes. It's a lot less stressful. Still weird that Alexander and Neil both quit working here, though.”
He shrugged. ”I'm sure you still see Alexander enough.”
She nodded. ”Lonelier working here without him, though.”
”It happen a lot,” Miguel said. Some people, they quit, you know? They just don' want to work like we do. I'm glad you are still here.”
She smiled at him. He stared back.
”It is a busy night,” he said, p.r.o.nouncing it bee-cee. When she nodded and took another drag, he added, ”It looks like you are keeping up okay.”
Something in his voice gave her the feeling that he knew why. She turned her face away but kept her narrowed eyes on him.
He threw his cigarette down and stepped on it. ”I have to go back inside,” he said. ”I will see you later.”
”Yeah. I'll be right in,” she said, taking another drag off her cigarette.
The door closed behind him, leaving Sara alone in the alley. She fished her c.o.ke bottle from her pants pocket. A T-shaped tube in the lid allowed her to snort directly from the bottle, but controlling the dose was difficult. Sometimes she got too much, but many times she got almost nothing at all.
She took a quick sniff with each nostril. The familiar numbing in her face meant she'd gotten a decent dose.
”Ladies don't read things like that, Sara,” Mummy said, plodding into the kitchen, her spread fingers ma.s.saging her forehead. She headed straight for the cabinet above the coffee maker.
Sara closed the comic book.
”I hope no one saw you buy it,” Mummy said. She was moving slowly, reading a pill bottle label, probably looking for the ”diet pills” that made her talk fast. It was a little early for the Librium she took when she was ”feeling anxious.”
”No,” Sara said. ”I got it from my friend, Josh. I saw him reading one at school, and last week we walked home together. I stopped in and he gave me a few comics to take home.” A wave of warmth flooded through her as she remembered.
Her mother's pivot reminded Sara of an ice skater. Her stare looked like a predator about to strike. ”You went to some boy's house?”
”Well, yeah, just to pick up some comic books ...”
Her mother shook her head. ”Sara, how many times do I have to tell you? Everywhere you go, people can see you. What will they think if you're going into boys' houses? What'll they think of me? That I raised you to be some loose, easy girl who just goes giving it away to whoever wants it? Is that how you want us to be seen?”
”Mummy, n.o.body-”
”People are always watching, Sara, I've been telling you that your whole life. They're always evaluating. You can never let your guard down and let them see you as a common wh.o.r.e. Never! Understand?” Pointing at Sara with the pill pinched between her fingers and thumb made her look like she was lecturing with an invisible piece of chalk.
”Oh, you mean like when you tried to smash Daddy's winds.h.i.+eld with a can of paint?”
Mummy gaped. She dry-swallowed the pill. ”So that's what you're doing now,” she whispered. ”You make up lies about me and tell people, don't you? You and your father do it together! You sit together when I'm not around and you plan and you scheme and you make up your filthydirty lies and then you spread them! You spread them like s.h.i.+t, all over this neighborhood! Don't you? Don't you!”
”I saw it with my own eyes,” Sara said. ”You were yelling at him. He got in the car. Then you grabbed the can and kept banging it against the winds.h.i.+eld until he backed out of the driveway and took off.”
Her mother stared, her eyes wide open with shock, her jaw tight with rage. She fumbled with the bottle of pills, trying to open it again while staring at Sara as if she was a dangerous animal she'd just discovered in her house.
”And it isn't like I see Daddy any more than I see you,” Sara said. ”How would I plan anything with him?”
Her mother nodded. ”You won't get away with it, you know. I've already told them what you're really like. I've told them about how mean you are to me and how you try to hurt me. The neighbors, his friends, your teachers. I told everybody. They all know what you're really like. You and that a.s.shole. They know.”