Allhallow's Eve: (Richard Laymon Horror Classic) (5 page)

‘What’d I
do
?’

The v.p. stabbed a blunt finger at the floor. ‘Give me thirty push-ups, Prince.’

‘That isn’t fair.’

‘
Now
.’

Eric lowered his eyes. The tile was spattered with water – or worse. ‘The floor’s wet.’

‘Do it!’

‘There’s piss on the floor!’ His voice cracked, and tears flooded his eyes.

Doons smiled. ‘It’ll do you good, Prince.’

Eric crouched, and placed his hands on the gritty floor. The tile under his left hand was wet. Crying silently, he started doing push-ups.

‘Let’s hear it.’

‘Three, four, five …’

‘All the way down, Prince.’

‘Six, seven …’

‘Louder.’

‘Eight.’

‘I can’t hear you.’

‘
Nine, ten, eleven
…’

‘Think you’re real smart, don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Gonna cut class again?’

‘No.’

‘Gonna wise off?’

‘No.’

‘Gonna put another dead rat in Miss Major’s deck?’

‘No.’ So
that was it!
‘Twenty-three.’

‘Thought that was smart, didn’t you?’

‘No.’

‘Made her puke.’

‘Twenty-eight,’ he said, no longer crying as he remembered the way she barfed. It had served the bitch right.

‘Twenty-nine, thirty.’ He quickly dried his eyes as he stood up.

‘That was a sick, perverted thing you did to her, Prince.’

Eric lowered his eyes. He’d thought, at the time, that he’d been let off too easily. He decided that Miss Major was too embarrassed by the incident to tell the administration. She wouldn’t want her own part to come out.

Apparently, he’d been wrong.

She’d told some of it, at least. To Doons. Not all of it, though.

She certainly couldn’t tell the reason Eric put the rat in her desk. She wouldn’t dare.

‘Do you want to know why I did it?’

‘’Cause you’re a sick little wise-ass. Now get to class.’

Eric turned to the sink.

‘No time for that. Get going. And next time you step out of line, Prince, you’re gonna wish you hadn’t.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Eric left the bathroom. Doons followed him, a few steps behind, as he walked up the hallway. He opened the door to his English class, and entered.

Miss Bennett glanced at him. There was no malice in her eyes. She continued talking about Huck Finn.

Eric hurried to his seat. The rat had been worthwhile, if only because it got him transferred to Miss Bennett’s class. He liked her a lot. She was pretty – so pretty that he often got horny just looking at her – and she never put him down.

He watched her talk. Her blue eyes were shiny and intense. She held a paperback copy of
Huckleberry Finn
in one hand. Her other hand gestured, pointed to students for answers, and sometimes brushed aside the blond hair over her forehead.

Eric’s own hair hung down, tickling his right eyebrow. He wanted to push it into place, but Doons hadn’t let him wash his hands. He didn’t dare touch himself.

God, what a crud.

Doons and Nate both.

They’re probably pals.

Eric used the back of his wrist to shove the hair away. He rubbed his eyebrow.

‘Eric?’ asked Miss Bennett.

‘What?’

‘Do you have something to contribute?’

‘Uh, no.’ He blushed. ‘I was just scratching.’

The class laughed.

God, what a day!

When the period finally ended, he rushed to the bathroom and washed his hands. No matter how much he scrubbed, he still felt they were dirty.

He went without lunch because he had no money to buy it.

The rest of the day, his stomach felt empty and he was careful to keep his hands away from his face.

Finally, the last period ended. He walked home alone, and opened the mailbox. Quickly, he flipped through the envelopes. One neatly typed envelope was addressed to him.

Unlocking the door, he hurried into the house. He tossed the other mail onto a lamp table. With a trembling hand, he tore open his letter.

He pulled out the single sheet of paper, and unfolded it.

Martin Bodine, proprietor of Marty’s Motor Lodge, scowled at the photo. ‘Not here,’ he said.

‘The picture’s six or seven years old,’ Sam told him.

‘Still not here.’ He pushed the photo back across the registration desk. ‘Sorry,’ he said. He didn’t look sorry.

‘
Has
she been here?’

‘When?’

‘Within the past week.’

‘No.’

‘She could look different, now. A different hair style or color…’

Martin sighed. ‘I’ve got twenty rooms,
Mister
Wyatt. As of right now, fourteen of ’em are vacant. That means I’ve got six parties under my roof. You think I wouldn’t know it, if this gal was one of them? Let me tell you, I’d know it. She’s not here. She wasn’t here last night, or the night before. As far as I know, I’ve never seen the gal my whole life. All right?’

‘All right,’ Sam said. ‘Thanks for your help.’

‘Any time.’

Sam walked to the door, clamping the photo of Thelma to his clipboard. Marty’s Motor Lodge was the
second motel he’d checked after searching Dexter’s house and finding a picture of the ex-wife. He’d struck out at both. There were no more motels to try – not in Ashburg. Maybe she’d taken up lodgings in one of the neighboring towns, but Sam doubted it. More likely, she was staying with a friend.

He climbed into his patrol car and drove to the Food King, where Charlie Dobbs had spotted Thelma yesterday. Outside its doors was a pile of pumpkins. Sam remembered buying one only a few days ago. He’d planned to carve a jack-o’-lantern this evening. Now, he doubted he would get to it. He wondered if Cynthia had a pumpkin. It would be fun, getting together with her and Eric to make jack-o’-lanterns. Maybe next year, he thought, hurting with regret.

Inside the store, he found the crew-cut manager behind a booth, okaying a woman’s check. He waited until the woman left.

The manager beamed at him. ‘Yes?’

‘I’m looking for information about a customer who was in here yesterday,’ he said, and handed over the photo. ‘Do you recall seeing her?’

‘Mmm. Say, isn’t this Thelma Boyanski?’

Sam nodded.

‘You say she was here?’

‘That’s what I heard.’

‘Golly, I haven’t seen her for years. Back in town, is she?’

‘Apparently.’

‘What a gal. I always wondered what happened to her. She used to be in here two-three times a week. Ran off with Babe Rawls, last I heard. Come back, has she?
Well, doesn’t surprise me. She was a dope to step out on a guy like Dex. Must’ve finally come to her senses.’

‘You didn’t see her yesterday, though?’

‘Nope. But I keep pretty busy. Could’ve missed her in all the rush.’

‘Okay if I talk to your clerks?’

‘Help yourself.’ He gestured for Sam to follow. They went through a closed checkout aisle. Near the back of the store, a young man was stamping new prices onto coffee cans. ‘Paul, Officer Wyatt wants to ask you a few questions.’

Paul blushed. His chin was pitted and raw with acne.

Sam showed him the picture, and asked the question.

Paul looked as if he wanted to faint with relief. Sam wondered, briefly, what the clerk had done to cause such guilty responses. Probably nothing more than an illegal U-turn a week ago.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in here,’ Paul said.

‘Have you seen her someplace else?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Okay, thanks.’

The manager squinted at Paul, and turned away. They walked down the aisle. ‘Wonder what that boy’s got on his conscience?’

‘Hard to say,’ Sam said.

‘You see how he looked? He looked as guilty as Judas. Like he thought you’d put him under arrest. I wonder if maybe he hasn’t been taking home some merchandise in his pockets.’

‘Could be. Plenty of folks do. I wouldn’t suspect him, though, just because he got flustered. We’ve all done
things we’re ashamed of, and wouldn’t want the police to know about.’

‘Think I’ll keep on eye on him, just in case.’

Half a dozen people waited in the ‘Express Line.’ Sam smiled at two of the women he recognized. Then he turned his eyes to the manager, who was speaking quietly to the checkout girl. The ‘girl’ was pushing fifty. She had a lean, tough look. She glanced at Sam, one eye squinting, and nodded. She mouthed a silent, ‘Over here.’

They left the manager at the cash register, and stepped over to his deserted booth.

‘What’s your pleasure?’ she asked. Her voice wasn’t low and harsh, as Sam expected. It was a high-pitched, musical voice.

‘I’m looking for this woman.’ He gave her the photo.

‘Oh?’

‘I heard she was in here yesterday.’

‘She most surely was,’ lilted the clerk. Her plastic nametag read, ‘Louanne.’

‘You saw her?’

‘With my own eyes. She didn’t look exactly this way. Wears her hair up, now, and it’s more a dishwater color. Thinner, too. But I saw her, no mistake about that.’

‘Did she go through your line?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘Did she pay with a check?’

Louanne fingered her upper lip. ‘No, not with a check.’

‘She paid cash?’

The clerk grinned. ‘Didn’t do that, either. You’ll never guess.’

‘I give up.’

Her eyes sparkled. ‘This lady didn’t pay for her groceries, at all. I saw a man slip the money into her hand while they stood in line. He did it just as slipper as you please, sneaking it to her ’cause he didn’t want nobody spying. I just happened to see him, though. I like to keep my eyes open.’

‘Do you know who the man was?’

‘I surely do. And it seems mighty strange for a good-looker like this gal to run around with a toad like him.’

‘A toad?’

‘It was Elmer Cantwell.’

‘Elmer
Cant
well?’ An odd match, all right. ‘That’s hard to believe.’

‘I had to pinch myself, but it was him all right.’

‘Come
on
,’ Nate said.

‘Where to?’

‘You coming, or you just gonna stand there with your fist up your ass?’

‘Sure.’ Bill Kearny slammed his locker shut. ‘Where we going?’

‘You’ll see.’

They walked together up the deserted hallway, their sneakers squeaking loudly on the linoleum. Ahead of them, a classroom door opened. Miss Bennett stepped out. Setting down a stack of books and file folders, she glanced at Nate and Bill. She smiled a quick greeting, then turned away to lock her door.

Bill grinned at Nate.

Nate wiggled his heavy eyebrows, and rubbed his hands together.

They passed Miss Bennett, and turned a corner.

‘
There’s
one teacher I wouldn’t kick out of bed,’ Bill said.

‘Yeah? I’ll take Nelson any time. You seen the tits on Nelson?’

‘Nelson’s a cow.’

‘Yeah,’ Nate said. ‘Great udders. Let me at ’em!
Wouldn’t mind Bennett, either, though. Get her alone sometime, you know, and slip her the ol’ dick.’

‘Do you think she does it?’

‘Fucks? Bennett? Are you kidding? A gal that looks like her? She probably bangs her brains out every night and twice on weekends.’

‘She wouldn’t do it with a kid, though.’

‘Who’s a kid?’

‘Us.’

‘Hey, maybe I’m just sixteen, but I’ve got a major league bat. A regular Louisville Slugger, man, and I hit a homer every time I get up.’

They trotted down a staircase to the first floor, and nearly collided with Mr Doons. They dodged away from him, and kept on walking.

‘Whoa there. Houlder, Kearny, back up.’