Friday Night in Beast House Page 2

  ‘I’m sure. Really. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Okay then’ She bent over, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, then stood up. ‘If you start feeling worse or anything, give me a call.’

  ‘I will.’

  She nodded, smiled and said, ‘Be good.’

  ‘I will. You, too.’

  She walked out of his room. A few minutes later, he heard her leave the house. He climbed out of bed. Standing at his window, he watched her drive away.

  Then he went to his desk, took a sheet of lined paper from one of his notebooks and wrote:

  Dear Mom and Dad,

  I’m very sorry to upset you, but I had to go someplace tonight. I’ll be back in the morning. Nothing is wrong. Please don’t worry too much or be too angry at me. I’m not upset or nuts or anything. This is just something I really wanted to do, but I know you wouldn’t approve or give permission

  Love,

  Mark

  He folded the note in half and put it on his nightstand. After making his bed, he got dressed. He’d though a lot about what to wear and what to take with him.

  Down in the kitchen, he made two ham-and-cheese sandwiches. He put them into baggies and slipped them into his belly-pack. He added a can of Pepsi from the refrigerator. Realizing its condensation would make everything else wet, he took it out, put it inside a plastic bag, then returned it to his pack.

  In the kitchen ‘junk drawer, he found a couple of fair-sized pink candles. He put them, along with a handful of match books, into his pack. After fitting his Walkman headphones into the pack, there was no room left for the Walkman itself.

  I don’t need it anyway.

  He put on his windbreaker, then glanced at the digital clock on the oven.

  8:06.

  Perfect.

  Patting the pockets of his jeans, he felt his wallet, comb, handkerchief and keys.

  That should do it.

  He looked around, wondering if he was forgetting anything.

  Yeah, my brains.

  He grinned.

  Chapter Four

  Outside the house, he took a deep breath and filled himself with the cool, moist scent of the foggy morning.

  A wonderful morning, made for adventure.

  He trotted down the porch stairs and headed for Front Street.

  In the early stages of making plans, he’d considered trying to sneak out of the neighbourhood to avoid being spotted by friends of his parents. Friends who would blab. After a while, however, he’d realized there was no point. He might be able to sneak into Beast House and keep his rendezvous with Alison, but his parents were certain to discover his absence from home tonight. Thus, the note.

  And thus, no need for sneakiness. Not here and now, anyway.

  They’re gonna kill me, he thought.

  But not till after my night with Alison.

  And if something goes wrong and I can’t make it into Beast House, I’ll just come home and destroy the note and nobody’ll ever know what I almost did.

  That might not be so bad, he thought.

  It’d be awful! I’ve got to get into the house and be there at midnight.

  Walking along, he thought about how surprised Alison would be when he opened the back door for her.

  ‘My God!’ she would say, ‘you really did it!’

  And then she would throw her arms around him, hug him with amazement and delight.

  Would that be a good time to kiss her? he wondered.

  Probably not. You don’t go around kissing a girl at the start of a date. Especially if you’ve never gone out with her before. You’ve got to lead up to it, wait until the mood is just right.

  We’ll have hours together. Plenty of time for one thing to lead to another.

  At Front Street, Mark stopped and looked both ways. Only a few cars were in sight, none near enough to worry bout. He hurried to the other side and continued walking east for another block. The barber shop was already open, but he didn’t glance in. The candle shop hadn’t opened yet. Neither had Christiansen Real Estate or the Book Nook or most of the other businesses along both sides of the road. Generally, not much was open in Malcasa Point before 10:00 a.m., probably because that was when the first tour buses arrived for Beast House.

  Coming to the corner, he turned right. Though bordered by businesses, the road was empty and quiet. He followed its sidewalk southway. Because of curves and low slopes, he couldn’t see where it stopped. The DEAD END sign and the fence and rear grounds of Beast House wouldn’t come into view for another couple minutes.

  Almost there.

  Then the fun starts, he thought.

  But the fun started early.

  Two blocks ahead of Mark, a police car came around a bend in the road.

  Oh, shit!

  Just act normal!

  Trying not to change his pace or the look on his face, he turned his head slightly to the right as if mildly interested in a window display.

  Mannequins in skimpy lingerie.

  Terrific, he thought. The cop’ll think I’m a pervert.

  Looking forward, he started to bob his head slightly as if he had a tune going through it.

  Just a normal guy out for a walk.

  He glanced toward the other side of the road.

  In his peripheral vision, he saw the patrol car coming closer.

  He turned his gaze to the sidewalk directly in front of him.

  The cop’ll get suspicious if I avoid his eyes!

  Trying to seem very casual, still bobbin his head just a bit, he glanced at the cop. He planned to cast the officer a friendly, uninterested smile then look away, but couldn’t.

  Holy shit!

  In the driver’s seat of the police car sat the most beautiful woman in town—and by far the most dangerous—Officer Eve Chaney.

  I thought she worked nights!

  Heart thudding, Mark gaped at her. Though he’d seen Officer Chaney a few times at night and admired her photo in the newspaper every so often, this was his first good view of her in daylight.

  My God, he thought.

  She turned her head and stared straight back at him as she slowly drove by.

  ‘Hi,’ he mouthed, but no sound came from his mouth.

  She narrowed her eyes, nodded, and kept on driving.

  Face forward, Mark kept on walking. His face felt hot. He was breathing quickly, his heart thumping.

  How’d you like to spend the night in Beast House with HER?

  The prospect of that was frightening but incredibly exciting.

  He suddenly felt guilty.

  Hearing a car behind him, he looked over his shoulder.

  Oh, jeez, here she comes!

  She drove slowly, swung to the curb and stopped adjacent to him. Her passenger window glided down. Mark bent his knees slightly and peered in.

  Beckoning him with one hand, Officer Chaney said, ‘Would you like to step over here for a moment?’

  ‘Me?’

  She nodded.

  Heart clumping hard and fast, Mark walked up to her passenger door, bent over and looked in.

  He’d never been this close to such a beautiful woman.

  But she’s a cop and I’m in trouble.

  He could hardly breathe.

  ‘Whats your name?’ she asked.

  ‘Mark. Mark Matthews.’

  ‘I’m Officer Chaney, Mark.’

  He nodded.

  Though this was October, Officer Chaney made him think of summer days at the beach. Her short hair was blowing slightly in the breeze that came in through the open windows of her patrol car. Her eyes were deep blue like a cloudless July sky. Her face was lightly tanned. The scent of her, mixed with the moist coolness of the fog, was like suntan oil.

  ‘How old are you, Mark?’

  He considered lying, but knew it was useless. ‘Sixteen.’

  She nodded as if she’d already known. ‘Shouldn’t you be in school?’

  ‘I guess so. I mean, I guess it all depends.’

>   ‘How’s that?’

  ‘My mom called in sick.’

  ‘Your mother’s ill?’

  ‘No. I mean, she called in sick for me. So I’m officially absent today.’

  Officer Chaney turned slightly toward him, rested her right elbow on top of the seatback, and smiled with just one side of her mouth. Mark supposed it would be called a smirk. But it sure looked good on her. ‘So you’re staying home sick today?’

  ‘That’s right, officer.’

  ‘In that case, shouldn’t you be home in bed?’

  ‘Well…’

  He felt his gaze being pulled down to her throat, to the open neck of her uniform blouse, on a course that would soon lead to her chest. He forced his eyes upward, tried to lock them on her face.

  ‘Well?’ she asked.

  I can’t lie to her. She’ll see right through it!

  ‘The thing is, I’m not all that sick. And I’m a really good student anyway and Fridays at school are always pretty much a waste of time and it’s such a nice morning with the fog and all.’ He shrugged.

  Eyes narrowed slightly, she nodded. Then she said, ‘And there are such few and such morning songs.’

  Mark raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Fern Hill’, she said. ‘Dylan Thomas.’

  ‘Oh. Yeah. The guy who wrote ‘A Child’s Christmas in Wales’.

  This time, she smiled with both sides of her mouth. She nodded again and said, ‘Have a good day, Mark.’

  ‘Thank you, Officer Chaney. You too.’

  She looked away from him, so he quickly glanced at the taut front of her blouse before she took her arm off the seatback. Facing forward, she put both hands on the steering wheel.

  Mark took a step backward but remained bent over.

  Just when he expected her to pull away, she turned her head again. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’ She told him.

  ‘I won’t. Thanks.’

  She gave him another nod, then drove slowly away.

  Standing up straight, Mark watched her car move down the road, watched it turn right and disappear.

  ‘Wow,’ he whispered.

  Chapter Five

  When mark resumed walking, his legs felt soft and shaky. He seemed to be trembling all over.

  He could hardly believe that he’d actually been stopped by Officer Eve Chaney, that he’d gotten such a good look at her. It was almost like something too good to be true. But even better—and more unbelievable—she hadn’t balled him out, hadn’t lectured him, hadn’t busted him or driven him back to school or back to his house. She’d not only been friendly, but she had let him go.

  Let him go with the caution, ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.’

  What was that supposed to mean?

  He knew it was just a saying. But it didn’t really make a lot of sense when you considered that he didn’t know enough about Officer Chaney to judge what she might or might not do. All he knew for sure was that she was a local legend. Since coming to Malcasa Point about three years ago, she’d made a lot of arrests and she’d even been in gunfights. She’d shot half a dozen bad guys, killing a couple of them.

  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t?

  ‘Good one,’ he said quietly, and grinned.

  Still shocked and amazed but feeling somewhat more calm, Mark came to the corner. He turned his head and looked toward Front Street, hoping to see Officer Chaney’s car again. But it was gone.

  He Shook his head.

  Continuing across the street, he found himself wishing that she hadn’t let him go. If she’d busted him, he would’ve gotten to sit in the car with her. he would’ve had a lot more time to be with her.

  Maybe she would’ve frisked me.

  ‘Oh, man,’ he murmured.

  But he supposed it was just as well that she’d let him go. Nice as it might’ve been, it would’ve wrecked his plans for sneaking into Beast House. He still wanted to go through with that, or at least give it a good try—even though Alison suddenly seemed a little less special than usual.

  It’s just temporary, he thought. Like sun blindness. After I’ve been away from Officer Chaney for a while, it’ll all go back to normal.

  ‘Eve,’ he said quietly. ‘Eve Chaney.’

  He sighed.

  Hell, he thought. If Alison’s out of my league (and she is), then what’s Eve? Like a grown-up, improved version of Alison, and probably at least ten years older than me. Not a chance, not a chance. The best I can ever hope for is a little look and a little talk. With Eve, it’ll probably never be better than what just happened.

  Forget about her.

  Yeah, sure.

  He suddenly found himself only a few strides away from the dead-end barricade. A little surprised, he turned around. Nobody seemed to be nearby, so he waded into the weeds, descended one side of a shallow ditch, climbed the other side, and trudged through more weeds until he stood at the black iron fence.

  Beyond it were the rear grounds: the snack stand; the outdoor eating area with chairs upside-down on table tops; the restroom/gift-shop building; and the back of Beast House itself.

  He saw nobody.

  The parking lot, off in the distance, looked empty.

  Now or never, he thought.

  After another quick look around, he leapt, caught the fence’s upper crossbar with both hands and pulled himself up. The effort suddenly reminded him of gym class.

  He struggled high enough to chin the crossbar, then hung there, wondering what to do next. He tried to go higher, couldn’t. He tried to swing a leg up high enough to catch the crossbar with his foot, couldn’t.

  Muttering a curse, he lowered himself to the ground.

  There’s gotta be a way!

  The rear side of the fence, extending along the eastern border of the lawn at the base of a hillside, was overhung in a few places by the limbs of trees outside the fence. Maybe he could climb one of the trees, crawl out on a limb to get past the fence, and drop inside the perimeter.

  The limbs looked awfully high.

  Climbing high enough to reach any of them might be tough. And if he succeeded, the drop to the ground

  He murmured, ‘Shit’

  If only I’d brought a rope, he thought. I could rappel down. If only I knew how to rappel.

  Screw a rope, I should’ve brought a ladder.

  He’d heard that there were places where you could crawl under the fence, but he had no idea where to look for them.

  There were also supposed to be ‘beast holes in the hillside… openings that led to a network of tunnels. But he didn’t know anyone who’d ever actually found one.

  If only I’d brought a shovel, he thought. I could dig my way under the fence.

  If I’d had a little more time to prepare…

  I’ve gotta get in somehow! And fast!

  He glanced at his wristwatch. Ten till nine. By nine-thirty, the staff would start arriving.

  He sighed, then hurried back to the street and broke into a run.

  The last resort.

  He’d intended to hop over the fence. While planning the details of his adventure, it hadn’t seemed like such an impossible task. He’d seen people do that sort of thing all the time on TV, in movies, even in documentaries.

  James Bond, he thought as he ran, would’ve hurled himself right over the top of a simple little fence like that.

  Shit, Bond would’ve parachuted in.

  As Mark ran, he realized that the real people he’d observed performing such feats in documentaries were Marines, Navy Seals, Army Rangers… not sixteen-year-old high-school kids whose idea of a good time was reading John D. MacDonald paperbacks.

  What would Travis McGee do?

  The fence would’ve been a cinch for Travis. But he might do what I’m gonna do.

  The new plan was risky. He’d kept it in the back of his mind only as a last resort.

  If all else fails…

  All else had.

  Nearing the front corner of the fence, Mark
slowed his pace from a sprint to a jog.

  If anybody’s watching, he thought, they’ll think I’m just running for exercise.

  A car went by on Front Street. He glanced at it, saw the driver, didn’t recognize him. A moment later, the car was gone and he found himself staring at the Kutch house in the field across the street.

  The sight of the old brick house sent a chill racing up his back. He knew what had happened there. And he couldn’t help but wonder what might still be happening within its windowless walls.

  Old lady Kutch lived in there like some sort of mad hermit.

  There were rumors of beasts.

  Of course, there were always rumors of beasts.

  The real things were probably long gone or all killed off.

  But old Agnes Kutch was beast enough for Mark. Walking too close to her house late at night, he’d once heard an outcry… almost like a scream, but it might’ve been something else.

  He looked away from the Kutch house and watched Beast House as he ran towards its ticket booth.

  Blood baths had taken place inside Beast House. Men, women and children had been torn apart within its walls. But the place didn’t seem nearly as creepy to him as the Kutch house. Maybe because he’d been inside it so many times before. Maybe because it was flooded with tourist day after day.

  Looking at the old Victorian house as he ran alongside its fence, the place seemed almost friendly.

  He slowed down as he neared the ticket booth.

  Looked around.

  Saw a car in the distance, but it was still a few blocks away.

  He walked casually to the waist-high turnstile and climbed over it.

  Easy as pie.

  On his right was the cupboard where the cassette players were stored. It had a padlock on it.

  He walked past the cupboard, stepped around the back of the ticket shack, took a deep breath, then raced for the northwest corner of Beast House.

  Chapter Six

  In the area behind the house, Mark found several metal trash cans, one just to the left of the gift shop’s entrance. He dragged it a few inches closer to the wall, then climbed onto it. Touching the wall for support, he rose from his knees to his feet and stood up straight.