She Page 3

  Now, Michael was a different situation altogether. When he was a young boy, not even a few months old, his father had left him. While the other families all around him had two adults, two parents, he had one. Up and down Country Road, where he lived, there were the typical farm families: one mom, one dad, a few kids. His house was different; they had no farming -besides his mom’s tomato garden that died every year- and certainly no animals, not even a dog. In his house, there was no Mr. Walker, so most people did not consider his mother a Mrs. Walker either.

  Michael was still the same old Michael, though. He had lots of freedom, but never abused it, and spent most of his time trying to be with Brandon or the twins. Especially the twins lately, and not because of Christian. His time was spent with Crystal whenever they hung out without Brandon. When they would go out to eat or go to the movies, he made certain to sit next to her if possible. Someday, maybe, he would get to hold her hand, although he was not sure if his heart could take that kind of exhilaration. Everything moved so fast in the teenage years, and yet unbearably slow as the same time.

  “What time is your mom picking you up for the dentist?” Crystal asked, unfocused; she was staring at Michael, not realizing it until she hastily turned away.

  Christian looked up. “And are we all still sleeping at your house tonight?”

  “Oh yeah, for sure,” Brandon answered. “My parents probably won’t like it, but they agreed a while back so now they have to let you all sleep over.” He smiled mischievously, and they all could see he was excited for them to come over. Rarely, if ever, did they go to Brandon’s house. Michael’s all of the time, and even the Moore’s frequently, but never Brandon’s.

  “How long ago did they agree?” asked Christian.

  “Um, about... Well, to be honest, it was the first month of school. They said I could have some friends towards the end of school, and next week’s the last one. On Wednesday-”

  “The first month of school?” Crystal said, looking incredulous. “That was like in August!”

  “What if they won’t let us?” Christian chewed nervously on his fingernails, reminding Brandon of a mouse with the way his small eyes darted around. “What if we get there and then we have to walk back home and our parents- ?”

  “Your house gonna be fun?” Michael asked, interrupting Christian’s neverending spout of worries. “Or like one of those places where you can’t talk much without getting told to hush?”

  “You mean church?” Brandon said, and they all got a chuckle out of that. “Nah, it’s not like that; we can just stay up in my room.”

  “I can’t believe your parents are letting a girl come over,” Crystal said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I thought for sure they would say no.”

  “I told ‘em if we didn’t let you come over, you’d get real upset and pester your mom about it. Made it sound like it was a real loving thing to do, letting you come over. They like to feel like saints.”

  “And that got ‘em?” Michael asked him.

  Christian answered, “Obviously it did; we’d all be sleeping at my house if-”

  “Okay, okay; turn everything into Algebra,” Brandon mocked, throwing up his hands.

  Christian grinned smugly while the others chuckled. “Whatever.”

  “Hey, I think that’s your mom’s car.” Michael nudged Brandon, pointing out the window with his finger.

  Poking his head up to see over Christian, Brandon said, “Yeah, sure is. Guess I better go.”

  “Bye, man.”

  “See you later, Brandon.”

  “See you at your house.”

  “Goodnight to all, and to all a good night!” yelled Brandon with a bow before he exited through the diner door, to unhappy looks from many customers.

  When he was gone, Christian commented, “He just botched that line.”

  They laughed at that. Christian stood up from his seat, asking for Crystal to let him out.

  “What for?”

  “Gotta pee.”

  Michael grinned slightly, thinking now he would have some time with Crystal away from the others. When Christian went into the bathroom -and Michael hoped he would be in there for a good while- he asked Crystal, “So you doing anything this summer?”

  She shook her head. “Going to visit my grandparents towards the end of June.”

  “Sweet.” When she did not say anything, he broke the silence. “Aren’t you supposed to ask me?”

  “What? Oh, sure.” She giggled, letting loose butterflies in Michael’s stomach. “What are you doing this summer?”

  His face took on a macho expression and he flexed his biceps. “Just working on these bad boys.”

  She grinned, raising her hands up as if holding a game console and twiddling her thumbs. “You mean these?”

  He gasped, pretending to be offended, although it did not fool anybody. “I do not-”

  Christian interrupted him, slamming the bathroom door and announcing, “Don’t anybody go in there. The dude before me let off a big one.”

  “Christian!” his mother chided from behind the cash register, her face a puzzle piece of utter disbelief towards her normally well-behaved son.

  The other two laughed, hiding their faces from Mrs. Moore, who reminded Christian of his proper manners by breaking the very rules she set down, filling the restaurant with a high pitch and words she would never have said in front of her boss. Not too long afterwards they were riding in her car up the hill away from Marcy, the brick buildings shrinking behind them in the distance, and towards Hardy, where they all lived and had for many years.

  Following one of the roads, they could travel up from the Ohio River valley on a winding, twisting road, under the shade of trees and with the accompaniment of beautiful scenery. It was a dangerous road if you went too fast, but everybody knew better than to do that. The slow climb up the hill would have been a great opportunity for Michael to flirt with Crystal and lean wildly to the side, his shoulder pressed against her. The only problem was, Mrs. Moore let -more like commanded- him to sit in the front, as he was the guest. According to her, it “gave him all the comfort they could offer in this shabby, old thing.” To him, sitting next to Crystal would have been more comfort than she would ever know, as they inched up the road slowly, passing clearings in the trees.

  Looking down on Marcy from a few of those spots would have made perfect images to snap with a camera and transfer to a postcard, except that postcards only came from big cities, big places, or big money. Marcy had none of those things; for the most part, it was made up of a town hall, a library, about a dozen shops, another dozen restaurants, and what seemed like twice as many church buildings. That was alright, though; people loved it one way or another.

  The river was a crucial part of life in Marcy back when it had been founded, and with the right nurturing and business investments, it could have grown much larger, getting near the likes of other river-cities nearby, such as Louisville and Cincinnati, not that folks from Marcy wanted it that way. No, they were just fine with the small town and small life they lived, away from drama in the big cities. This was home to them, where everyone knew each other and nobody could afford to hold grudges for long. Hardy was theirs, and it would stay that way.

  Peace and comfort, though, could not last forever. Younger, more ambitious, never contented generations either wanted to move away to large populaces, opportunities, and buildings, or wanted to expand Marcy to become those. Constant turmoil between those who were content and those who were obsessively ambitious erupted almost on a monthly -sometimes weekly- basis; you see, doing anything on a daily basis would be too much work for both sides, and nobody much liked to work hard in Marcy.

  Up the road, which eventually merged with Highway 62 and ran along a little farther into the distance, was Hardy. It was different than Marcy, in many ways. With such a small crowd of folks, and an even smaller crowd of buildings, it was truly peaceful. Crime was rare, and the only turmoil that happened was rumors and gossip.
It was a different world, a sense of community and bonding that you would be hard-pressed to find anywhere else.

  There were many farms in Hardy, but all of them were centered around the main streets and buildings, which essentially formed a square. Pine Tree Park was there, with walking paths for adults, playgrounds for kids, and basketball or tennis courts for those sort of people. It had everything for everyone, and most of all it had family.

  Most weekends, a dozen miles away in Marcy, they were arguing over what to name such and such street, or what font should be used on the billboard. Meanwhile, there was a community-wide barbecue at Pine Tree Park, where only laughter reigned and drove away the petty worries of everyday life. It was full of a homy attitude, a familiar sense of togetherness, and the wonderful smell of every type of meat. Dry-roasted, barbecued, seasoned, sauced; there was something for everyone and someone for everything. That was the real Hardy.

  What those kids did not know, as they rode up Highway 62, was that every mile they got closer to Hardy, they were getting closer to a different town than they had left that morning. Strange, menacing things were lurking, ready to shoot out, blossoming into something terrible.

  That night was going to be different from all the rest. Those four teenagers would never be the same; those streets and those houses would never be the same; Hardy would never be the same.

  4. Streetlamps

  “Are your parents asleep now?” Christian asked.

  “Why?” asked Brandon.

  Christian shrugged. “Just wondering.”

  “I, for one,” said Brandon, “wanna get a lil’ bit frisky.” He rolled his r as he said it, taking in their expressions with amusement.

  Christian stared at him blankly, mouth agape. Crystal looked like she was ready to chastise him and also ready to crack up laughing. Michael was somewhere else in the house showering.

  “Just kidding, just kidding,” Brandon laughed, rolling backwards on the bed. Christian shook his head, amused, but Crystal took action and shoved him off. With a thud, he landed on the floor, face slamming into the carpet.

  Grunting, he rolled over and looked up, where Crystal was leaning over the bed and smiling.

  “Frisky enough?” she asked.

  At that moment, Michael walked in the room, tank top and shorts on. Looking around with a confused glance, he asked, “Umm, what’s this?”

  Christian stood up off the bed and said, “Apparently, they’re being ‘frisky.’ Take that for what you want it to mean.”

  Michael laughed and asked, “So what snacks you got hidden up here? I’m hungry.”

  “And that’s supposed to be news? You eat all the time.” Crystal began to walk around, leaning forward heavily as if dragged down by a one-thousand pound stomach.

  “Hey, give the man some peace.” Brandon threw his hands up and acted like he was in an inner-city gang. “Some of us think we’re gonna grow up to be trees.”

  “Has there been five minutes in your life where you didn’t interrupt someone’s conversation?” asked Christian.

  A retort formed on Brandon’s lips, but as his eyes wandered to the clock on the wall it left him. His lips closed and something foreign darkened his eyes as his face morphed into a serious expression. Fear stood out like bold letters although nobody could read why.

  “You alright, man?” Michael asked, walking over to him. Christian and Crystal both got up off the bed.

  “It’s time.”

  “Brandon, what are you talking about?” Crystal put a hand on his shoulder, while Michael walked up behind her. Most days, he would feel a sudden pang of jealousy, but it was different now. Something was going on, something strange, and his best friend was suffering from it. Demonic possessions came to mind, but that was far-fetched; and his parents were Christians, anyway. That canceled demons out, right?

  “The real reason why I had you all spend the night,” Brandon started explaining, “was to tell you something. Well, to show you.”

  The others granted him confused expressions, begging for him to continue, and at the same time dreading it. Whatever he said, they did not want to hear it. But they could not help egging him on.

  Crystal stared at him. “Brandon... tell us…” Her voice was trembling.

  “This all started about a week ago. I was staying up late one night, playing my Game Boy because my parents don’t know I have it and might not like it, and I went over to put it away because it was getting late and I had church the next morning. Normally, I hide it over behind my curtains, because nobody looks there, so that’s what I was doing.

  “Anyways, I pulled back the curtains, and something down on the street caught my attention. There was a figure standing down there, just under the streetlamp. I could barely see her, but all the same I’m certain she was there.”

  “How do you know it’s a ‘she’?” asked Christian. “And why are you so sure? It was late so you could have imagin-”

  “I know what I saw,” Brandon said forcefully. “Besides, you didn’t let me finish. I’ve seen her every single night since then. At 10:30, every night, she is out there. I can’t tell what she’s looking at, or what she’s doing, but a part of me doesn’t want to know.”

  “But how do you know it’s a ‘she?’ ” repeated Christian.

  “I can see her hair. It’s long; longer than yours, Crystal. It’s like a gray, whitish type, so I think she must be older. She kind of slouches, it looks like, so maybe that’s right. Whatever it is, she freaks the crap out of me. Especially at night. The first time I saw her, I couldn’t sleep at all, and kept getting up to see if she was there. Every time I checked, there she was the same way, just standing and not moving.”

  “When does she leave?” asked Christian once again.

  While he questioned Brandon, the other two just listened in a mixture of disbelief and shock, but at the same time, this was Brandon. He would joke, sure, but never take it this far. This was serious business, and he knew it. Somewhere in their minds, they expected him to pop out and say “April Fools even though it’s not April”, or something like that. But he did not. His face continued to look terrified.

  “I don’t know,” Brandon answered. “I fell asleep a little after four. Last I checked, she was still there about ten ‘til.”

  “So what do you want us to do? Get her?” Michael asked, confused.

  “What?” Brandon exclaimed. “No, no; nothing like that. I just want you all to be here and see her too. To make sure I’m not going... well …”

  “Going crazy?” Crystal finished for him.

  “Yeah... going crazy. Whenever I told my parents, they would never come. Then one night they did, and she was gone. Creeped me out. I got in a lot of trouble, too. I think I’m losing my mind.”

  “Well, don’t worry, man,” Michael assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll check it out, and stay up with you. These things are better faced with friends, like horror movies.”

  “Yeah, same here,” agreed Christian.

  “I’m up for anything,” Crystal assured him.

  Looking up at the clock, Michael rubbed any weariness out of his eyes and addressed the rest of them. “It’s a little after 10:30. Let’s go see.”

  Like a silent parade at a funeral, they shuffled over to the window, drawing nearer to the curtains, behind which lay a mystery, both in the past and the future. The room was silent around them, and with hearts beating so fast you must have been able to hear them, all four of them gathered around, staring out as Michael’s hand went to the curtain.

  With a quick tear through the air, he ripped the curtains back, and there it was.

  Nothing. There was nothing unusual outside.

  No lady standing there, no shocking revelation; there was a road, running off out of their vision to the right and left. There was a street lamp, casting its shadowy glow onto the bushes and lawns below. There were houses lining the side of the road, spaced apart but still close together. There was nothing.

/>   “Brandon…” Crystal began to say, but he was stumbling backwards.

  He fell backwards and landed on the bed, a look of complete and utter disbelief and horror etched on his face. “I... she was …”

  “Brandon, it’s okay man,” Michael said, looking at his best friend anxiously. “Maybe she just didn’t come tonight.”

  “I swear... every night... she …”

  He looked up at them with wild eyes. They were the eyes of a man who cannot believe what he saw, forced himself to believe it, and then watched as it disappeared. His sanity came crumbling down, and every pretentious wall he built up was torn to pieces like shredded paper blown in the wind. Left with nothing and no sense of what was going on or what was real, he sat down with a thud on the bed and leant back, staring at the ceiling.

  “Guys,” said Christian warily from over by the window.

  “What do you want?” Michael said, sounding harsh. He did not turn around.

  “I see…”

  “What do you see, Christian?” his sister asked with attitude, not at all interested. She was too worried about Brandon, and did not turn around either.

  “I see her. And she sees me.”

  In a moment, they were all gathered around the window, staring down underneath the streetlamp.

  There was a lady.