Apparition (7 page)

We pull onto Brad’s street. The house is a three-storey Victorian on a corner property near the river. I’ve heard that his parents won’t be home, and there are already lots of cars parked in the driveway and along the road in front. There’s a big scarecrow sitting on the front porch, made of clothing stuffed with straw and topped with a carved pumpkin head. Another carved pumpkin, lit from the inside by a candle, has been placed near the front door on a bar stool. Fake cobwebs hang from the porch roof.

As Jeremy parks the car, I take a deep breath and put on my mask. I’m trying to screw up the courage just to get out of the car. There’s cackling witch laughter coming from a recorder somewhere in the garden as we walk up the driveway. I can’t see much out of this mask.
Matthew, what am I doing here?

We’re greeted by a bottleneck at the entrance: vampires and zombies are jamming the front hallway. The lights are low, the music is loud and someone in a platinum-blonde wig and stiletto heels is sitting on the floor, where she’s apparently fallen, blocking our way. She’s laughing—uncontrollably, it seems. Okay. Jack gives me a glance and steps over her, barely missing her head. He parts the streamers hanging from the ceiling light fixture like he’s swimming the breaststroke and moves on down the hallway, edging toward the kitchen at the back of the house. I calculate whether I’ve got the leg reach to follow him and take a shot, but I knock “Marilyn’s” wig half off, exposing
part of a brunette head. I’m realizing that there’s already been a fair bit of alcohol consumed here this evening, and suddenly, like the girl on the floor, I feel I’m in a little over my head.

I make my way down the crowded hall. It’s too loud in here, and I’ve lost sight of Jack already. On either side there are dimly lit rooms with streamers and bowls of orange-coloured taco chips and Cheezies. There are hordes of kids yelling above the music or hopping up and down to the beat. Some look familiar. I even know the names of a few. But there’s no one I know well enough to talk to. Then I catch sight of Jack, already getting comfortable with a beer in hand, flirting with some zombie girl. I don’t want to ruin his chances of a good time, so I try to keep my distance. I jump as someone screams and then laughs loudly right next to my ear. A black rubber spider falls at her feet. I’m not up for all this horror. But how am I going to get home if I leave now?

I need to kill time, and I figure the best way to do that is to keep moving from room to room. There’s a slow circulation of ghouls going on anyway, and I work my way into it. I pretend I’m on my way somewhere, to get something or talk to someone. I have something to do. Yes, I’m quite engaged in whatever that thing is.
Excuse me. Sorry. You first
. I keep my head low. No one knows who I am. No one is looking at me. No, that’s not true—this Bob Marley look isn’t exactly blending in. I’m getting some double takes, but that’s all. I nod a little as I edge through the crowded rooms, acknowledging people as if I’m one of them. But within ten minutes I’ve moved around as much as I can without driving myself completely mad. I’m going to have to find somewhere to hide. My best bet is the front living room. I think I saw an unclaimed corner of couch in there.

I’m making my way back through the dining room, squeezing past bodies, when I see a face in the hallway that stops me cold. It’s
like catching a glimpse of myself in a mirror, only the mirror image doesn’t match up. For one thing, this other Bob Marley is a guy. He’s pretty tall, and his shoulders are … well, guy shoulders.

I’m frozen where I stand as this other Bob Marley saunters toward me. He puts a hand on my shoulder and leans into me, speaking low and close, like we’re in on some secret together.

“Wow,” he says into my ear. “Bob, I can’t believe you’d show up at a party like this not once but twice.”

Does he think I’m a guy? I try to be friendly. “Uh, my grandmother bought this for me.”

“Yeah, I got this from my stepdad. He’s always trying to broaden my cultural range.” He pauses and adds, “Eternal optimist.”

“Oh,” I say, trying to think of a response to that. “Well, my grandmother isn’t much of an optimist, eternal or otherwise. Although she does lighten up when she’s having a beer and a smoke out back with her horses.”

“Sexy.” He’s nodding. I can tell that amused him, and he’s looking intently at my eyes through the holes in my mask. “So, Bob, why
are
you here?”

“Well, I … you mean, other than because I get to wear a mask?”

“Ah. That’s enough for you?”

“Sometimes, yes.” I’m feeling a little bolder now. “Why are
you
here?”

“I’ve got a thing for Brad’s mom.” He’s looking around. “But I’m not seeing her.” His blue eyes are striking, the way they scan left and right behind the Jamaican face. “What do you think? Would she be a vampire or a zombie?” He looks around, then shrugs like he’s unimpressed. “Young people today, they’re obsessed with vampires.”

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

He ignores that. “It’s a sad reflection of the decline of religious literacy in popular culture. I’d like to see Jesus kick some vampire butt.”

That makes me laugh. “What about the zombies?”

“Zombies, they’re cool. Jesus was a zombie, for Christ’s sake. That’s what Easter’s all about.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Holy jeez, he’s different!

“Are you kidding? Don’t you know about the ‘resurrection of the body’ stuff in the Bible? The Bible’s all about zombies.”

“No, I seriously never thought of that.”

“Really? What are they teaching in Sunday school these days? Young people are so confused.”

I’m starting to wonder if this guy is older than he sounds. “So is that why you’re more interested in their mothers?”

“Have you
met
Brad’s mother?”

I’m getting an image in my head of a desperate housewife. Whatever. I think I’ve had enough of this guy. And two Bob Marleys at one party is just too weird. “No, I haven’t, but good luck with that. Maybe I’ll see ya around.”

“You think I’m that easy to find?” He’s different, all right.

I’m edging by him with an eye on the hallway when someone pushes him from behind, bumping him against me. He apologizes quickly. It’s embarrassing but I’m wearing a mask, so whatever. I manoeuvre past, eyes down, and manage a little backhanded wave as I head toward the hallway and the living room, my original plan. I glance back at him once more and he waves a finger at me. I can just about hear him over the noise.

“I’m warning you, I never forget a face.”

His blue eyes flash but something about his body language spells mild disappointment. Maybe he’s lonely too.

There’s a very vampy vampire in the hall. Brittany—of course. And there’s Morgan nearby, dressed as a nurse. A vampy nurse. Lots of blood. They don’t recognize me in my reggae getup, and I linger
for a minute or so, on the verge of saying something. But they walk past me down the hall, getting sucked into the crowd.

I really can’t take much more of this. I change course and make my way to the front door, squeezing between two new zombies who’ve just arrived and stepping out onto the porch. I didn’t want to do this, but I pull out my cell and phone home. Joyce answers.

“Joyce?” I haven’t quite thought of what to say. “I … I don’t feel very well. I don’t think I want to stay at this party much longer. You don’t need anything in town, do you?” I’m looking at my watch. It’s 9:35. “Is there any chance you could swing by and pick me up? I don’t want to have to wait for Jack and his friends to bring me back.”

She’s quick to say that she needs a few things from the convenience store and will come by in about twenty minutes. What a relief. I’ll just wait out front, I say. She knows the house.

A group of partiers are standing in the driveway in the dark, laughing and talking, drinking and smoking. Jack is among them. He sees me, breaks from the group and walks over.

“What’s wrong? Not having much fun?” He’s looking pretty down himself.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’m just not that much in the mood, I guess. Not really feeling like a party tonight after all. I mean, glad I came and all, but I think I’ll be taking off soon.”

“No way. Already? But how are you going to get home? If you hold out awhile, Jeremy will give you a lift. We’re going to move on to another place after this.”

“It’s okay. I called Joyce.” I’m embarrassed to admit it, but he just nods.

“And how are you doing? Everything okay?” I can tell something’s wrong with him. Jack’s usually pretty cheery.

“Oh, you know. I’m good.”

“What’s up?” I don’t really have to ask what’s bothering him. He’s been trying to get closer to Morgan for about a year. She keeps sending him mixed messages and jerking him around. Something new must have happened. But Jack just shrugs. “Did you talk to her, at least?”

“Yes, I did. I tried to, anyway. She just kind of walked away. Walked over to some other guy who caught her eye. Right in the middle of … well, just embarrassing.” He’s really upset. “So it’s time to give up, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. I know she’s my friend, but you can do better.” I can tell from the pained look on his face that he doesn’t believe me. I guess that’s love for you.

“Don’t worry, I’m done. I’m throwing in the towel. It’s over.” He says that with a bitter smile.

Okay, I should change the subject. “Where else are you going tonight?”

He looks at me sideways. “You don’t want to know.” He pauses but I don’t ask. I guess he’s right. “A couple of the guys want to check out the Telford barn. On a dare, kind of. You know, just because it’ll be spooky.”

“Jack …” I don’t know how to say this. “Not a good idea.”

We sit in silence, then he says, “Halloween and all.”

I feel like a weight is pushing on me. I sit down heavily on the porch step and Jack sits down beside me. He takes a drink from his bottle of beer.

“Actually, Amelia, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I was talking to Matthew’s cousin Richard last week. You know—the guy who works in the hardware store? He told me something and said I should probably keep it to myself. He said that a week before Matthew died, he had a talk with him about you. I didn’t know if I should tell you or not.”

Oh
. I can’t breathe. I lift the lower part of my mask away from my mouth and nose to get some fresh air.

“He said Matthew asked his advice about something that was bothering him.”

Oh my God!

“Matthew said he was afraid that his parents wouldn’t approve of you because you don’t go to church or anything, and he was afraid that if he started getting more involved with you, they would freak. Point is, he was really serious about you. That’s what he told Richard.”

What? My mouth locks open.
What?
My eyes close tight and my throat seizes up. I let the chin of my mask go and Bob Marley is back on. Jack leans hard on my shoulder and pushes himself to his feet. I can’t see clearly now, but I try to speak in a normal voice. “What advice did Richard give him?”

Jack shrugs. “I don’t think he had any.” He looks away, then turns back to me and adds, “But I thought you might want to know.” And he slouches, beer in hand, back over to his friends.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

I
’m finally drifting off to sleep after hours of tossing around in bed, images of Halloween in my head, when voices out back wake me up. I get up and go over to my window. In the backyard by the door to the garage are four figures in the moonlight: Jack and his friends, arguing. I check the time on my alarm clock—2:12 a.m.

I open my window, put my face to the screen and whisper as loudly as I can, “Hey, guys! Past two. Time for bed.”

“Amelia,” someone below answers, “your dumb-ass brother is giving us a hard time. We had to drag him out of that damn barn. Now he says he’s going back. You want to try talking some sense into him?”

There’s some pushing and shoving going on in the shadows. A few of them have had too much to drink, and I think Jack is one. I hope they don’t start fighting. I dress quickly and sneak downstairs, trying not to wake Joyce or Ethan with the closing door.

“What are you guys up to?” I hiss, approaching the four of them from the side of the house.

They’re a sorry-looking bunch, all still in traces of Halloween makeup. Jeremy’s the designated driver, so he’s making the most sense. He tells me they broke into the Telford barn and spent about an hour just hanging out in there. He says it was spooky as hell. But just when they’d all had enough, Jack said he didn’t want to leave.

“He started going all weird on us,” Jeremy says. “Pacing up and down the barn. He’s acting like a jackass.”

I study Jack. He’s looking everywhere but at me, grinning and preoccupied.

“Well, that’s dumb,” I say. “Jack? Are you being a jackass?” And it occurs to me to ask, “Did you take something?” Drugs, I’m thinking.

Jack laughs and rolls his eyes. “All right, all right. I give up.” He flaps his hands in the air, waving us away. “I’ve had enough. I’m gonna crash. I’m gonna sleep like a baby tonight.” He grins, shaking his head and reaching for the garage side door. He opens it, waves over his head at us and disappears inside.

The other three guys shuffle back to the car parked at the front of the house, muttering among themselves. Jeremy throws me a good-night kiss as they disappear around the corner. I stand where I am for a minute, waiting for Jack’s light to come on upstairs above the garage. It finally does. I see a shadow lean against the window, probably looking down at me where I stand in the headlights of Jeremy’s car as it reverses out of the driveway. Then it’s dark again. Shivering with the cold, I slip back into the house.

In my bedroom again, lights out, I take one last peek at Jack’s window. It’s dark. I sit down on my bed and think about getting back into my pyjamas, but I’ve got a chill. Something’s bugging me. I get up and check the window again. This time, in the moonlight, I see the side door slowly open. A figure moves in the doorway and steps outside. Jack looks around and up toward my window. I know
he can’t see me in my dark room, but I lean back from the window just in case and hold my breath for a few seconds. Then I peek down again. He’s walking away from the garage, along the back of the house and out of sight. What the hell is he doing? Where does he think he’s going? I don’t like this. I hurry back downstairs, and this time I grab a heavier coat.