1
1968 Janice Engelhart sat quietly
in an overstuffed chair in the corner of the McNally's family room, stroking
the fur of their gray Persian cat named Natasha. It was darker in the corner, and she liked it for that very
reason. Everyone in the house that was
still awake out in the open where she could see them, and she felt somewhat
protected in the shadows, with her back up against the wall.
Mr.
and Mrs. McNalley were seated at the large table in the center of the room,
playing a game of Monopoly with Jonathan and Eddie. Janice had opted to just sit and watch, much to the dismay of
Mrs. McNalley. But she hadn't been
pushed too much and for that she was grateful.
All she really wanted right now was to be left alone. If nothing ever happened to her again as
long as she lived, it would be fine with her.
Her concept of reality had been shattered into a million pieces and she
lacked both the energy and desire to put it back together again.
She
knew that Eddie was bad. Real bad. He had powers no one else had.
Bad powers. Beyond
that, her mind would not allow her to question the reasons why she felt that
way. The only ray of sunshine in her
life was Mrs. McNalley, whose kind and gentle ways had given her a small piece
of security to hold on to. Her father
was in the hospital but she didn't trust him anymore. He hadn't been able to protect her. Her brother had tried, but he too had failed. As far as she was concerned, men in general
could no longer be counted on, let alone be trusted. That included Mr. McNalley, even though he tried to be nice. No, she would never trust anyone but Mrs.
McNalley from now on, and she wasn't so sure about her. That was what had so perplexed her that
night.
It
was obvious to her that Mrs. McNalley had taken a special interest in Eddie,
but for the life of her, she couldn't figure why. True, Eddie had been on his best behavior lately, but there was
something more to it than that. Didn't
she see that Eddie was bad? Her mind rambled like a computer programmed
to crunch all the variables, searching for answers, playing out all possible
scenarios. In the end, she decided that
Eddie had corrupted her too. Now she
was alone, truly alone. That was more
than Janice could take and she decided she would have to win Mrs. McNalley
back. Not that she had ever lost her,
so to speak, but as long as she was befriending Eddie, she was as good as
lost. But how was the question?
First
things first, she decided. She would
watch Eddie like a hawk, never letting him out of her sight if possible. He would slip up sooner or later and she
wanted to be right there to point it out to Mrs. McNalley. Second, she was afraid that Eddie might do
harm to her, like he had to Aunt Louise.
And herself, her subconscious added.
She vowed to watch over Mrs. McNalley twenty-four hours a day. It would give her purpose, and in the end,
Mrs. McNalley would see the truth for herself.
Janice
watched as the four continued to play.
Jonathan finished his turn, landing exactly on the Go square and
collecting his two hundred dollars from Mr. McNalley. He stood up and excused himself, so he could go to the
bathroom. He smiled hopefully at Janice
as he passed her, but she ignored him, and rolled her head as if she was going
to sleep. She felt a small twinge of
remorse, but she had steeled herself towards the fact that all men were bad. Or at least had the potential to be that way when you least
expected it.
"Your
turn Eddie. Jim, I was talking to Eddie
earlier today, and it seems he shares our interest in the paranormal too,"
said Patricia McNalley as Jonathan left the room and Eddie picked up the dice.
"Is
that so?" asked Dr. McNalley.
"I
didn't know it had such a fancy name, but I guess I've played around with the
idea a little," said Eddie innocently.
"What
field exactly, Eddie?" asked the doctor.
"Mostly
in the south field, behind the barn," replied Eddie, pretending not to
understand what the doctor meant. Both
McNalleys laughed.
"I
guess what I meant was, what area of the paranormal are you interested in,
Eddie?"
"Oh,
I'm sorry. Moving things I guess."
"Telekinesis,"
said Patricia.
"Tele-what?"
Eddie asked.
"Telekinesis,"
said Dr. McNalley, "the ability to move objects without the use of any
known physical or sensory means. Simply
put, to move or levitate objects using only your mind."
"That
would be me," replied Eddie.
"What
do you mean, Eddie?" asked Patricia, glancing over at her husband as she
did.
"I
can do that," Eddie said matter-of-factly.
"You
can?"
"Yeah,
though I'm not very good at it I'm afraid."
"Ninety-nine
point nine nine percent of us can't do it all, Eddie. Some say one hundred percent of us can't," said Jim
McNalley. "Could you show us a
little sample of your handiwork?"
"I,
I, I've never done it in front of anyone before," said Eddie shyly,
looking down at the tabletop, knowing that he had them eating out of his hands.
"We
don't want to pressure you son," said Mrs. McNalley compassionately,
"but if you think it wouldn't be too much of a strain on you right now,
could you try for us? Something really
simple, of course."
Eddie
let a few moments pass to build the suspense.
"I
guess, but it will cost you."
"Cost
us?" asked a surprised Patricia McNalley.
"Sometimes
I find it helps if I have some kind of reward to get this to work."
"What
did you have in mind, Eddie?" asked the doctor, one eyebrow raised high on
his forehead.
"Oh,
nothing special. You've been so good to
us that I couldn't dream of asking for anything else. Let's see. How about, um,
how about if I can move my piece down to the Free Parking, I get to keep the
money, and we just tell Jonathan that's how my roll turned out."
"Sounds
fair to me," said Patricia, "but I don't like the thought of cheating
Jonathan."
"He
won't mind, besides, if he lands on anything else but Go, he'll be out of the
game anyway," returned Eddie quickly, looking at Jonathan's meager pile of
five's and ones.
"Well,
if that's what it takes, go ahead Eddie," said Patricia.
Eddie
looked over to Dr. McNalley.
"When
ever you're ready, Eddie."
Eddie
knew this was going to be as easy as taking candy from a baby, but he wanted to
make it look much harder. He closed his
eyes and lowered his head down as if in prayer. He waited a few moments, but then decided to get it over with
before Jonathan got back. All he had to
do was envision the little silver die-cast car cruising down the game board six
squares and coming to a stop in the corner.
What he really wanted to do was to fly it around the room a couple of
times and park it in his sister's nose, but there was no sense in giving away
too much too soon. When he opened his
eyes, the car was sitting in the middle of the Free Parking square, with it's front
bumper pointing towards the Go to Jail corner of the board.
"That's
incredible!" exclaimed Patricia, her eyes wide with amazement. "Did you see that, Jim?"
"Yes,
I did, quite remarkable. Have you
practiced this much Eddie?"
"A
little," said Eddie, as he reached to the center of the board and gathered
up the considerable amount of money on the Free Parking square.
"Could
you show us?" asked Patricia enthusiastically.
"Another
time, maybe. I don't really like to
show off. If it's just you, or Dr.
McNalley, that would be okay I guess. But only if it can be our little
secret."
Dr.
McNalley and his wife exchanged glances again.
"Does
anyone else know about your ability to do this?" asked the doctor.
"Not
exactly, and I'd like to keep it that way.
This whole thing scares me a little," said Eddie shyly.
"As
you wish, Eddie. It will just be our
little secret," said Mrs. McNalley, nodding at her husband for support.
"Of
course," agreed Jim McNalley.
"Thanks,"
said Eddie, hearing the toilet flush in the bathroom down the hall. "Here comes Jonathan, so not a word,
okay?"
Both McNalleys nodded in
agreement.
Eddie
smiled to himself, and then quickly envisioned the dice changing to show a pair
of threes. The sound of the dice
tumbling caught the attention of both of the McNalleys, as Jonathan approached
his seat.
"Did
I miss anything?" asked Jonathan.
"Hey
brother, must be my lucky day. Not only
did I land on Free Parking, I rolled doubles.
Still my turn."
"Figures. You always did have all the luck."
Dr. McNalley
watched as Eddie rolled the dice again, and wondered just how much of what
happened to the Engelhart family was luck, coincidence, fate, or of Eddie's
doing. He turned to look at Janice,
wondering what might be registering on her face, but saw that she was
asleep. Just as well he thought.
Janice
watched through her barely opened eyes as Dr. McNalley turned his attention to
the game. Fools, she thought. They were falling for Eddie's bullshit. She would have to be extra careful from now
on. Dr. McNalley could look after
himself, she told herself, but she would be watching over Mrs. McNalley as if
her life depended on it. For all she
knew, it did.
2
Day
to day life at the McNalley's was a piece of cake to Janice and the other
Engelhart siblings. Since they were now
living in town, at least for the near future, there were no chores to speak
of. They had to pick up after
themselves of course, but that was nothing compared to feeding all the
livestock, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, getting dinner ready, milking
the cows twice a day, etc., etc., etc.
What Janice decided she liked most of all was the fact that there were
none of the aromas that were ever present on the farm. She laughed at the thought. She not only did not have to do shit, she
didn't have to eat shit, and she didn't have to smell shit. Cow shit, horse shit, pig shit, bull shit,
dog shit, cat shit, and worst of all on a hot summer day, the rancid,
overpowering, ammonia based chicken shit.
Mrs. McNalley had flowers
planted everywhere, and there were always at least three or four fresh bouquets
placed strategically around the house in beautiful antique glass vases. The mixtures of their fragrance and the
smell of freshly mowed grass was intoxicating to Janice, and then and there she
decided that when the time came for her to run her own life, she would do the
same. She would have flowers in her
house, her car, and her hair. Hell,
she'd even have some roses tattooed on her butt! And she would have a real grass lawn, and no matter how small,
she would mow it every day. Although
subconsciously, she was only fantasizing at the time, reality turned out to be
quite close to her daydreams. The tattoo
would end up on her left breast where she could see it, and the grass would be
smoked everyday instead of mowed.
Janice
watched through the open window facing the street as a couple of boys about her
age ran by with baseball mitts on their hands and a bat over each
shoulder. It seemed to her that they
didn't have a care in the world, except for getting to the ball field.
"Hurry up, Jerry!"
yelled the tall one in the lead.
"I don't want them starting without us."
"You
just don't want to have to play outfield," yelled the younger brother
between gasps of air.
"Why
should I?" asked the older brother as he ran backwards taunting his
sibling, trying to get him to hurry up.
"That's what a runt like you is for!"
"Eat
my shorts!" yelled his little brother.
"Make
me…. runt!"
And
they where off at full speed again.
Janice
watched as the two disappeared from view.
She hoped that the little one caught his brother and beat him over the
head with his baseball bat until he was unconscious. Inside, she knew that was what she would like to do to her own
younger brother.
"Hey,
Janice!" came a yell from the next room.
It was Eddie. "Time to load
up and go and see father."
"I think I'll just stay
here today, you and Jonathan can go," she replied evenly.
"No
chance, sister of mine. We're all gonna be there. That's the way this thing is supposed to
work."
"What
in the hell is that supposed to mean?" asked Janice.
"Simply
put, we get to stay here at Disneyland, free of charge, as long as we play the
game. The rules of the game say that we
have to act like we're worried about father, and have no other place to
go. Poor, father. Poor us.
Got it?"
"I
got it all right, Eddie. But I'm not
going."
Eddie's
face quickly turned crimson, as he walked a few steps closer to his sister.
"You'll
go, bitch! If I have to send you flying
through that window you have your face poked in all day, you will go!"
Janice
shrunk back in her chair, fearing a physical onslaught from Eddie that never
came. The redness in Eddie's face began
to subside, but there were still blotches on his cheeks.
"Okay. I… I'm going."
"You
bet your ass you're going, and don't piss me off about this again. When the Triple E says jump, you jump.
Understand?"
"Sure,
I understand Eddie."
"Triple
E, not Ed-die," he said with distaste for his own birth name.
Janice looked at him defiantly, wanting to draw the line at this 'Triple E' garbage. She would go and see her dad. She would do what ever it took to keep Eddie off her back. But to have to put up with his arrogance about being called 'Triple E' was to say that he had the ultimate power, and her will had not yet been broken that far.
"Look
Eddie, I'll do what you say, but I'm not . . ."
"Not
what?" growled Eddie, trying to keep his voice low enough not to be
overheard.
"I'm
not going to call you 'Triple E', that's all," said Janice, feeling
temporarily brave in having done so.
"We'll
see about that!" shouted Eddie, as he mentally created the thoughts needed
to shove Janice's chair, with Janice in it, up against the wall with a
thud. He was in a rage, and Janice definitely
needed to be put in her place right now, he thought to himself as he began to
levitate her chair above the floor.
"See
about what, Eddie?" asked Mrs. McNalley from around the corner, startling
them both.
Janice's
chair was only inches above the ground when Mrs. McNalley interrupted. Eddie's concentration was smashed at the
sound of her voice and gravity regained control of the situation, dropping
Janice and her chair back to their original place.
Eddie
didn't turn to face Mrs. McNalley at first, waiting instead for his blood
pressure to go down, and hopefully most of the signs of his rage.
"Eddie?"
she asked again.
"Yes?"
said Eddie tamely as he turned around to meet her gaze.
"See
about what, Eddie?"
"I'm
sorry, Mrs. McNalley. I guess, I guess
I just got upset about my father being in the hospital, and there's nothing we
can do about it," lied Eddie skillfully.
Patricia
McNalley was no fool, and her forte was child behavior. It didn't take her long to sum up the
situation after looking at Janice's face, and then back to Eddie's.
"Eddie,
I know these must be hard times for you, but you can't take them out on others,
especially your sister. If you need
someone to unleash on, that should be me, or Mr. McNalley. Do you understand?"
Janice
watched carefully to see what Eddie's reaction would be. She couldn't help but be relieved with Mrs.
McNalley's intervention, and she was in awe of her ability to recognize the
circumstances for what they were.
Still, she couldn't help fearing for the safety of her rescuer, knowing
that Eddie was in the middle of another one of his unexplainable episodes of
violence.
At
first she thought Eddie was going to launch them both through the large picture
window, and she imagined them tumbling together through space, falling to the
ground in a heap with lacerations from head to toe. What happened next amazed her, and made her realize that Eddie
was more dangerous than she had ever thought.
"Your
right, Mrs. McNalley," he said, as he turned towards Janice, looking so
innocent that it made Janice want to spit.
"I'm sorry sis, I don't know what got into me. Can you ever forgive me?"
Patricia
looked at Eddie with a look of understanding and approval, and then she turned
her eyes to Janice, obviously expecting some kind of reciprocal gesture. Janice knew the situation was hopeless, and
she didn't want to lose face in front of the only person in this world who
might eventually understand what was really
going on. On the other hand, she would
never say she was sorry to Eddie, even if it meant death by shards of glass.
"No
biggy," said Janice, not wanting to look either one of them in the
face. "Let's just go."
That
was good enough for Patricia McNalley, and she broke into a smile.
"I'm glad to see you
two could work this out. I know you've
been under a lot of strain lately, but it's times like these when we have to
really stick together. I'll go round up
Jonathan, and we'll be off. I'm sure
your father will be anxious to see you again.
A hospital can be a very lonely place when you're the one stuck in
bed."
Mrs.
McNalley turned around and walked into the other room, with Eddie following
right behind her. Janice watched as the
two left, then slowly brought herself to her feet. It seemed there was really no one she could trust anymore, but
Patricia McNalley was the last thread tying her to sanity, and she found
herself unwilling to let go. Eddie
would probably win, but she had to try.
'Why?'
her subconscious questioned.
'If I
let go now, I may never find my way back again,' thought Janice.
‘Back
to where?' asked her relentless subconscious.
'How
in the hell should I know?' came the reply.
'I'm only fourteen years old, and I'm living in the Twilight Zone.'
'True,'
came the voice again, 'but way back to where?'
3
Janice managed to get through
the rest of the day, having very little to say to her father while at the
hospital, and even less to anyone else on the way home. Mrs. McNalley tried to make small talk
several times, obviously going out of her way to get her to speak, but Janice resisted
the temptation. Part of her wanted to
punish Mrs. McNalley for befriending the enemy, and the rest of her wanted to
send her a message that something was desperately wrong. She knew, or at least hoped, that Mrs.
McNalley would come around sooner or later and force the issue to a head. Hopefully it would be sooner, but no matter
what the time frame, it would have to be when they were alone. To force the issue, she had remained alone
upstairs in the room the McNalleys had given until dinner, and had gone back up
right after being excused. Every second
that went by seemed an eternity, but finally she heard the footsteps coming up
the stairs, stopping at her door.
"Janice?" asked
Patricia McNalley through the door.
"Yes," returned
Janice, making every effort to sound despondent.
"Can I come in?"
"Okay."
Patricia slowly opened the
door, let herself in, and closed it again.
She leaned against the door, and waited a second before speaking. "Are you feeling all right,
Janice?"
"Yeah,
I'm fine," returned Janice slowly.
"You don't seem
fine. You hardly ate anything for
dinner, and you haven't said twenty words to anyone all day. That's out of character for a child your age,
even for you. What's wrong?"
"Nothing really. I'm not very hungry, and I just don't feel
much like talking to anyone. I don't
mean to be rude," added Janice politely, not wanting Mrs. McNalley to
think of her as a spoiled little brat.
"Well, I guess I can
except that, seeing that I have days like that myself," said Patricia
understandingly, hoping to draw Janice out of her shell.
"You
do?" asked Janice quickly, forgetting to play the solemn teenager, and
hating herself as soon as she had let the words out.
"Mind if I sit
down?" asked Patricia.
"Please," said
Janice, scooting over on her bed to make room for the older woman.
"Thanks," said
Mrs. McNalley, as she sat down next to Janice.
"You might not believe it, but ask Mr. McNalley, there's times I
just don't want to say boo to anybody.
Drives him nuts too. Maybe
that's why I do it, I don't know. Truth
is, there are times when a person just needs to be inside them self. No matter how much everyone else wants to
help, there's just some things you need to figure out yourself. You know what I mean?"
Janice just nodded.
"I figured you
would. You're a thinker, just like me,
I can tell. Lots of kids have been
through this house; let me tell you. Although
they're all unique in their own ways, they basically fall into three
groups," continued Mrs. McNalley, not waiting for a response.
"First,
there are the sponges. Most kids that
end up here are sponges. They need
caring and attention so bad they suck up all they can, while they can. Kinda like throwing a dry sponge in a bucket
of water. Goes in the bucket weighing a
few ounces, comes out weighing three pounds.
They eat like there's no tomorrow, want to always be held or catered to,
and demand your total attention.
Nothing wrong with that, don't get me wrong, especially considering the
places that most of them come from.
"The second kind I like to call the rebels. They just want to upset the apple cart
because their own world has been turned upside down. Just about every kid that comes through here has a little bit of
that in them, at first anyway, even the little babies that can't even talk
yet. Sometimes they're the worst. Most get over it, as soon as they realize
that not everyone in this world is out to get them, neglect them, or just plain
desert them. But a few hang on to that
attitude for a long time. Some I would
venture to say, the rest of their lives.
You wont find any of them around here for too long though, because I
refuse to waste my time on anyone who doesn't want to be helped. There's too many that do."
Janice looked up at Mrs.
McNalley as she paused, hoping that she hadn't been put into that
category. She opened her mouth to
speak, when Patricia continued without giving her a chance to intervene. "Then there's the third type. I call them the thinkers. Sometimes they're a little bit sponge, a
little bit the rebel, and a whole lot of something they just don't know. Other times they know exactly what they are,
and are just trying to perfect what it is they feel they want to be. They're still searching. Searching for what, I don't always figure
out before they have to leave. Some
feel they're searching for their own special place in the world, I
suspect. Others seem to be just searching
for the truth. Those are the ones I
feel for the most, because the truth is probably the hardest thing find
sometimes.
"You'd think it would
just sit out there on some kind of pedestal and pinch you on the rear end every
time you passed it by without giving it some thought. But it doesn't. Don't get
me wrong, it's out there for everyone to find, just as plain as the nose on
your face. But it seems to be perfectly
happy if you don't find it, too. That's
because the truth can stand on it's own.
It doesn't need your help or acknowledgment, and it don't need mine
either. It's kinda like Superman. It's bulletproof. And just like Superman, when it's dressed up in tights and a cape,
it's easy to see. But sometimes the
truth takes off the cape, and puts on a pair of horned rim glasses, and we miss
it.
"Fact
is, only a blind person wouldn't be able to tell that Clark Kent was really
Superman. We just don't want to believe
it's true, so the story will work. It's
the same with the truth. The only time
you won't be able to see it is when you're not looking, looking too hard, or
you don't want to believe it's true.
"You're
a thinker, Janice. No doubt in my
mind. Knew it the first time I laid
eyes on you."
Janice
had been watching Mrs. McNalley intensely, but now turned her gaze down toward her
hands, clenched together tightly.
"Do you really think
so?" she asked.
"Like I said, no doubt
in my mind."
Patricia waited as she
watched the wheels turn in the teenager's head. She felt like she had gotten through, and now all that was left
was to find out what was really troubling her.
"You're right about me,
you know," said Janice, choosing her words carefully, trying to make a
lasting impression. "I am a
thinker."
Patricia nodded in
agreement, saying nothing, hoping Janice would continue. When she didn't, she prodded her on. "Would you like to share your thoughts
with me?" she asked tenderly.
"You
wouldn't understand," replied Janice, in a tone that was colder and more
distant than Patricia had expected.
"Try me," she
responded, not willing to give up.
"They're about
Eddie."
"Are you two having
problems again?" asked Patricia innocently.
"Like I said. You wouldn't understand."
"Did I ever tell you
that I had two brothers? They were both
a pain when I was growing up."
"They weren't like
Eddie!" shouted Janice, temporarily losing her composure.
"Okay," said Mrs.
McNalley, wanting to know what had brought on the sudden show of emotion in
Janice. "I'm sure you're
right. Those were simpler times back
then, and come to think of it, my brothers were about as simple as two human
beings could get."
She could tell her attempt
at humor had fallen on deaf ears, so she decided to wait for Janice to
continue. It took almost two
minutes. When Janice finally spoke,
there was no doubt in her mind that this was more than just normal sibling
rivalry.
"Look
Mrs. McNalley. I really appreciate you
coming up here and talking to me. I
know you mean well. But you really just don't understand. And I can't explain it to you. At least not without a lot more of that
thinking you were talking about. But I
can tell you this, there are basically three types of people who know
Eddie."
Janice
stopped at that point, and turned to face Mrs. McNalley eye to eye. Patricia McNalley had never seen a person so
young look so intense, so serious.
There was little she could say.
"Go
on."
Janice
continued as if on cue, still not breaking the eye contact she had with Mrs.
McNalley. Still not blinking, Patricia
also noticed.
"First,
there's the people that don't see Eddie for what he is. Most people fall into that category,"
explained Janice, mimicking her adult counterpart.
"Second,
there are people who realize there's something different about Eddie. You're one of those, Mrs. McNalley. At least for right now."
"And the other type?" asked Patricia, not able to resist the temptation.
"The
last type is the type I feel sorry for the most. The type I don't want to see you
become. They're the ones that don't see
the truth, just like you said. It's
there for them to see all right, but not until it's too late."
"And
what type would that be, Janice?" asked the curious foster parent.
"The
dead."
4
One night, after trying hard
to sleep, but failing miserably, Janice decided to get out of bed and read for
a while. She turned on the lamp by the
side of her bed, and walked over to the desk where she had set her latest stack
of books from the library. As she
picked through the collection, she heard voices coming from downstairs. She wouldn't have considered this out of the
ordinary, since Mr. and Mrs. McNalley often stayed up and talked after all the
children had been put to bed, but she could hear another voice too. It was Eddie's.
The
thought of Eddie being alone with them was too much for her to dismiss without
further investigation and she quickly went back and turned off her bedroom
light. The room was totally black except
for the light shining under the crack of her door. She slowly walked to the door and ever so gently opened it enough
to allow her to put her ear to the opening.
The voices seemed to amplify themselves as they bounced off the walls
and up the staircase, and she found that she could hear them quite
clearly. Mr. McNalley was talking at
the moment.
"That
was truly amazing, Eddie. That bowl of
fruit must way at least four or five pounds!
Do you find that the heavier the object, the harder it is to move
it?"
"Yes,
unless I'm mad or something," replied Eddie shyly.
"Is it easier for you
when you’re upset?" asked Patricia.
"In
some ways yes, and in some ways no."
"Could
you explain that, Eddie?" asked Jim McNalley.
"Are
you going to write down everything I say?" asked Eddie.
'What's that about?' thought Janice.
"Well, no Eddie, not if
you don't want me too. The reason I'm
writing things down is to be sure I don't forget anything. When you get to be my age, your memory tends
to get a little fuzzy around the edges.
I wouldn't show my notes to anyone if you didn't want me too, of
course. Just like with all of my
patients. It's against the law."
"Am I one of your
patients?" asked Eddie.
"Of course not,
dear," Patricia answered quickly.
"Writing things down
makes me nervous. Besides, you're the only
people who know about this… this thing I can do. I'd like to keep it our little secret, for now at least. People might think I'm weird or
something."
'You got that right, little brother.'
"As you wish,
Eddie."
Janice could hear the
shuffling of papers as Mr. McNalley put away his notes.
"That
better?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now, you were going to explain how it was
easier in some ways when you were upset, and harder in others."
"Well, I guess it's
easier to lift big things when I'm mad, but I can't always move them where I
want. Sometimes they kind of go where
they want."
"What's the biggest
thing you've ever tried to move, Eddie?" Jim asked.
"Oh, I don't
know," replied Eddie, seemingly not willing to talk about it.
'Tell them asshole.'
"I tried to move a
small calf once, but all I did was knock it over."
'Liar.'
"What would you say it
weighed Eddie, forty, maybe fifty pounds?"
"I guess."
"And that's the biggest
thing you've ever tried to move?" asked Patricia.
"Yeah, I guess
so."
'Lies again! The last time I got on a scale I weighed over a hundred.'
"I
take it you were upset then?" asked the doctor.
"Yeah. He got out through a gate I forgot to shut
all the way. My father yelled at me for
it, and made me do some extra chores."
"I see. Was the animal hurt when he fell?"
"No."
'Sure. Now try and explain the dead steers Dad found every now and then.'
"Do you ever just
practice moving things around, Eddie?
You know, just for fun?" Mrs. McNalley asked, trying to be less
clinical in her questions than her husband.
"A little bit I
guess. When I get bored."
"Do you find that
you're getting better at this the more you practice?" asked Mr. McNalley.
"Maybe a little,"
replied Eddie, playing about as dumb as person could get.
'Maybe a little… Why don't you ask him to lift you and your chair off the ground for a few minutes?'
Janice found that she had
listened to more that she could handle.
Without giving it a second thought, she flung the door open and ran down
the stairs and into the dining room where they were sitting.
Jim and Patricia McNalley
nearly had a simultaneously heart attack when Janice came flying around the
corner and into the family room. Eddie
remained nearly statuesque. Janice came
to screeching halt at the table's edge, stopping from tumbling over the top and
into Mrs. McNalley's lap only by putting out both her hands and grabbing the
solid oak table top.
Patricia
stood up first, her maternal instincts taking over.
"What's wrong
Janice?"
"What's wrong?"
shouted Janice, turning a dark shade of red.
"What's wrong?"
"Yes dear, come over
here and tell me exactly what's got you so upset. Are you all right, did you have a bad dream?"
"I'm just fine,
thank-you. It's you two that need help!"
"What on earth are you
talking about, Janice?" Dr. McNalley tersely asked.
He didn't really appreciate
being interrupted when they were so deep into interviewing Eddie, let alone
being talked to that way by a child.
Janice didn't seem to notice the tone in his voice. In fact, she became even bolder.
"I'm talking about you,
and Mrs. McNalley, and playing little games with Eddie, who's leading you both
down a pretty little path full of bullshit and down right lies! Tell them Eddie. Tell them the truth!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.
Eddie looked at the two
McNalleys as if his sister had blown a major head gasket, then turned his gaze
back to Janice.
"Calm down Janice. You shouldn't be so disrespectful to Mr. and
Mrs. McNalley. We're lucky they're even
keeping us until father gets better."
"Go to hell,
Eddie!" she shouted.
Mr. McNalley was the one to
stand up this time.
"Janice, I can see you are
upset, but I won't have any child running around this house using that kind of
language. Now, Mrs. McNalley asked you
a question, and I expect that you give her an answer. And without any of your foul mouth or nasty attitude."
"She's upset Jim, just let
me talk to her," consoled Patricia as she started around the table toward Janice. "It's going to be all right Janice, you
just come with me and…”
"Forget it!"
screamed Janice, starting to back away from the table.
"Janice, be reasonable,"
pleaded Mrs. McNalley.
"Reasonable! Reasonable?
What would you two know about reasonable? You're sitting here, having a nice little chat, with Adolf Hitler
junior, and you want me to be
reasonable? No thanks, I'd rather take
my chances with Jack the Ripper!"
"That'll be enough,
young lady!" shouted Jim McNalley, finding it hard to control himself at
the moment.
"You wish! But it's never enough, is it Eddie? First Aunt Louise, then Lt. Taylor and that
other man, then me, then Jonathan, and finally dad! Who's next Eddie? Who's
next? Mr. and Mrs. McNalley?"
"I think she has really lost it this time," said
Eddie, knowing that he had to ruin her credibility, and realizing that the
perfect moment for it was at hand.
"I mean, she had been a little bit loony before, but I think she's
really gone over the edge this time."
Janice started to lunge for
her brother just as Mr. McNalley wrapped both of his arms around her, pinning
her arms at her sides.
"Patricia, get my bag,
and be quick!" he shouted as Janice proceeded to bruise the front of his
shins with her bare heels.
"Don't believe
him! Don't believe him! He's evil as the devil himself! Don't believe him!"
Patricia McNalley soon
appeared at her husband's side, with a syringe in one hand, out of Janice's
sight. She had known exactly what he
had meant by 'get my bag'. It wasn't
the first time they had been in these circumstances. She looked at her husband expectantly, and he gave her a
nod. She rapped the syringe along it's
clear casing with her left index finger then shot a thin clear stream of fluid
from the needle several feet into the air.
She had been prepared to wipe down Janice's arm with an alcohol soaked
cotton swab before giving her the shot, but Janice had caught the scene out of
the corner of her eye. She began to
kick even harder, so Patricia stabbed the needle right through the sleeve of
her nightgown and into the large muscle on her upper arm, pressing the plunger
down as fast as she dared.
Janice continued to struggle
a few more seconds then slowly started to calm down. Before a minute had passed, Dr. McNalley was able to scoop her up
in his arms and carry her to the couch.
"Well," he said,
trying to place what was left of his hair back into place, "that was quite
a scene. Does she get like this often,
Eddie?"
"Didn't use to, but she
seems to be getting worse as time goes on.
She dreams up the wildest stuff sometimes. I don't know where she gets it, maybe she watches too much Outer
Limits, I don't know."
"The poor thing,"
said Patricia. "She's been through
a lot lately. Maybe a good night's
sleep is just what the doctor ordered."
"Like it or not, she's
got one of those coming now. I just
hope her arm hurts in the morning as much as my shins do right now."
5
Janice woke around seven the
next morning, still feeling groggy from the sedative. At first she thought she was still in her room but, as her eyes
began to focus, she realized she was on the couch in the family room. She noticed she had been covered with a
blanket, and a pillow was propped under her head. It took her a few moments to reconstruct what had happened, and
when she did, all she wanted to do was pull the cover over her head and go back
to sleep. Unfortunately, her need to
use the bathroom and to get a drink of water was far too demanding to allow
such an easy escape.
She sat upright on the
couch, wincing at the pain in her upper left arm as she did. She remembered seeing the needle squirt out
of the corner of her eye while she was trying to escape Mr. McNalley's
grasp. She felt betrayed. Her only friend in the world had given her a
shot in the arm to shut her up, just when she was trying to save her. Well, if that's the way they were going to
play it, they could just learn the hard way.
From now on, Janice Engelhart would be take care of her self.
She slowly stood on her
feet, and started to make her way toward the stairs when Mrs. McNalley came out
of the kitchen.
"Glad to see you're
up," said Patricia brightly.
"Hungry?"
"No thanks,"
replied Janice evenly, though now that it had been mentioned, she was
starving. "I just want to go
upstairs and get dressed."
"Okay, you do
that. Maybe you'll change your mind
after you've been awake for a little while.
Everyone else has eaten. Hey,
good news! Your dad called just a
little while ago, and he gets to come home today. Isn't that great?"
"Yeah, terrific," Janice
said in a monotone and started up the stairs.
Mrs. McNalley thought about
stopping her, surprised at her reaction, or lack of it, but decided to give her
a chance to wake up. She felt terrible
for the child, but for the first time in a long time, didn't know quite what to
do about it. She was still watching
Janice slowly ascend the stairs when she heard her husband's voice behind her.
"Patricia?" he
waited for his wife to turn around.
"Sergeant Roland's on his way, should be here any minute."
"Honey,
we don't need Ray here every time you leave the house for half an hour. Besides, this must be driving him
nuts."
"We’ve already gone
over this, dear. Do we have to go over
it again?"
"No, I guess not. It's just that Eddie seems to be doing so
well. I guess it's hard for me to
believe that there's more to this than we've already seen."
"I'm not so sure about
that."
"What makes you say
that, Jim?"
"Come into the kitchen
and I'll fill you in."
Patricia joined her husband
in the kitchen as he was pouring himself another cup of coffee.
"Want one?" asked
Jim.
"I'll pass,
thanks. So what do you know that I
don't?"
"Remember last night,
you went to bed after everything happened, and I said I wanted to stay up and
do a little research for a while?"
"I'm not the one that
needs to write everything down so I don't forget things, or had you forgotten?"
teased Patricia, recalling what Jim had said to Eddie the night before.
"Very funny. What else was I to say?"
"You never could lie
worth a damn."
"Isn't that why you
married me?"
"There were other
reasons, but then, those were different times.
We were much younger then."
"Need you remind
me?"
"Every chance I get,
old timer. How are your legs?"
"Hurt like hell. I'm half tempted to write myself out a
prescription for some morphine."
"I'll bet."
"Anyway, as I was
saying, I was doing a little research last night, and Jonathan came down to see
me. Said he had heard some screaming,
thought it was Janice, and he wasn't sure if it was a dream or not."
"What did you
say?"
"I let him know what
had happened basically, and asked him if he could shed some light on the
matter."
"Good idea," said
Patricia. "We really haven't
gotten his side of the story yet. He
always manages to avoid talking about anything but the weather."
"I've noticed that too,
but he was in the mood for talking last night."
"And…?"
"And I think he's as
worried as Janice is about Eddie, though I couldn't quite get him to open up
about it. It's strange, but it was
almost as if there were something keeping him from talking about Eddie. I don't know if it was fear, or what. All he would say is that we should be really
careful, that Eddie isn't what he seems
to be."
"Too much for
coincidence?"
"Too much. I want to talk with Thomas on the way home
and see if I can piece things together.
He seemed at a loss the last time I talked to him, but I know he doesn't
trust Eddie anymore than the kids do.
I'm sure everything will be all right, but I'll feel a lot safer with
Ray here. Funny thing, he said Lt. Taylor
felt the same way."
"You're beginning to
scare me, James McNalley."
"Good. Then there will be no more objections I take
it?"
"None."
"I love you."
"I love you too,"
said Patricia softly, as she reached over and gave her husband a quick kiss on
the lips.
"There's Ray now. I gotta go."
"See you later. Take your time with Mr. Engelhart, we'll be
fine here."
"Bye."
Patricia watched through the
window as Ray Roland got out of his car and walked up to the driver's side of
Jim McNalley's Oldsmobile. They shook
hands, and her husband got in his car.
They talked for a few seconds, and she could see the right shoulder of
her husband dip a little as he reached for the ignition. The next thing she saw was the blinding
flash of light from the explosion of the gas tank, then everything went up in a
giant fireball as the sound wave reached her ears. She ducked from the uncontrollable reflex actions that commanded
her brain, and by the time she raised her head, pieces of her husband's car
were beginning to land in the yard. The
fireball had turned black and flames were reaching high into the clear blue
sky. She let out a quick scream, and
turned to run for the side door that went to the driveway.
"Going somewhere?"
asked Eddie, who was standing in the doorway.
"Out
of my way Eddie!" Patricia managed to say, as she stumbled for the door
clutching at her chest.
"Why? He's quite dead you know. Just like you'll be when I'm through with
you," continued Eddie, with a curious little smile on his face. "I've never seen anyone have a heart
attack before. Does it hurt much?"
Patricia realized what was
happening too late to get out another word and collapsed at Eddie's feet. It felt as if someone had actually reached
up under her ribs and grabbed her heart, then squeezed with all their
might. Her world began to go dark, and
the last thought to come to her was why. Why? Her face still seemed to say that when the
ambulance driver found her five minutes later.