Die Before I Wake (28 page)

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Authors: Laurie Breton

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BOOK: Die Before I Wake
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Who knew how many outings like this we’d have together? Whatever was going on between Tom and me, I could set it aside for this one day. The girls deserved my undivided attention.

The kids played a few games. Taylor proved to be deadly accurate at breaking balloons with darts.

After milking me for every cent I was willing to part with, she came away with a huge stuffed Tweety Bird that I could have bought in a department store for half of what it cost her to win.

Then it was ride time. I begged off, knowing there was no way I could hold it together on one of those circular nightmares. So I juggled jackets and sunglasses, Claudia’s purse and Dylan’s baseball cap, and a Tweety Bird the size of Rhode Island, while they all went on the Tilt-A-Whirl. It made me dizzy just to watch, so while they were going around, aided by an ear-shattering, wobbly recording of “Boogie Nights,” I wandered over to a display of Indian jewelry, drawn, as always, by the turquoise. I set down Tweety, shifted my burdens, and picked up a necklace of hammered silver and Arizona turquoise to examine it. The quality was what you’d expect for the county fair circuit, inexpensively made using a lesser grade of turquoise than you’d find in a jewelry store.

But the bauble was pretty, and the price reasonable, even taking into account the three-hundred-percent markup. I decided to buy it, and was redistributing my load to locate my credit card when I noticed the man watching me.

He was about thirty feet away, leaning lazily against a corner post of one of the game booths. Tall and lanky, he wore a John Deere cap and a wife-beater T-shirt that showed off his tattooed arms. One arm boasted a massive bald eagle, an American flag gripped tightly in its talons. On the other arm, intricately and skillfully drawn, was the head of a tiger. The man’s dark hair was slicked back, his eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. But I knew he was watching me, and there was something about that opaque gaze that seemed mildly malevolent. I couldn’t explain why, but a shudder ran down my spine. He took a drag on his cigarette, then he tossed it onto the yellowed grass, ground it out with one booted foot, and gave me a grin.

I immediately averted my gaze. Crap on a cracker.

Was he about to come up and speak to me? I’d given him no more encouragement than a brief glance.

Surely he couldn’t misinterpret that as a sign of interest? I was tired, my ankle was starting to hurt, and I needed to eat something more substantial than a nibble of spun sugar with food coloring in it. The last thing I needed was to be hit on by some tattooed yokel.

But when I glanced back up, he was gone. Relief coursed through me, accompanied by acute embarrassment. Of course he hadn’t been about to hit on me. The smile had been nothing more than the acknowledgment of two anonymous strangers whose glances happened to meet purely by chance. He was simply being polite. Did I really think myself so alluring that total strangers were unable to resist my magnetism?

Claudia and the kids returned to claim their possessions, I located my credit card, and I paid for the necklace. We were sitting at a picnic table, chowing down on hot dogs and potato chips, when I saw the man again. I told myself it was coincidence. The midway wasn’t that big; if you kept circling around, sooner or later you were bound to run into the same person two or three times. He was leaning over a display of belt buckles, seemingly fascinated by the assortment. I ignored him, keeping my gaze focused on my hot dog. But when I glanced up, I found him staring at me. Again.

“Don’t be obvious,” I said to Claudia, “but look at that man over there by the belt buckles. I think he’s following me.”

Ignoring my warning, Claudia swiveled around to search the crowd. She might as well have sent up flares, she was so obvious. “What man?” she said.

“Don’t look!” I whispered.

She arched an eyebrow. “I can’t very well see him if I don’t look.”

“Don’t be so damn obvious. He’s over by the belt buckles. Skinny, dark-haired, big tattoos.” Making only a feeble attempt to be discreet, Claudia studied the mystery man. “You’re imagining it,” she finally declared. “I’ve been watching him all this time, and he hasn’t even looked in our direction. The only thing he’s interested in is a new buckle for his belt. Preferably one with a naked woman on it.”

“He
smiled
at me, Claudia.”

“Oh, well, that makes all the difference. Men who smile at women are always psycho serial-killer stalkers.”

“Oh, shut up. I know what I’m talking about. The man’s been watching me.”

“I think you’ve been stuck indoors for too long.

You’ve forgotten how human beings interact.” She studied the man for a little longer. “You could be stalked by worse. He’s not the kind of guy I’d want to take home to mother, but as a momentary attraction—say, for an hour or two—he’d make a very nice play toy.”

I shuddered. “Not my type.”

Claudia shrugged. “To each his own. Cripe, Dylan, look at the mess you’ve made. You look like you took a bath in mustard.” She rolled her eyes and said, to me, “I must be a masochist to do this.”

“It goes with the mommy territory. I—shit, Claudia, I think he’s coming over!” I felt an instant of panic before he took a sudden right and veered off course, disappearing into the crowd.

“Honey, are you all right? I’ve never seen you so pale.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I really do have an overactive imagination.” Maybe it was the paranoia, back for a return engagement.

Claudia patted my arm. “After what you’ve been through, I’d be worried if you didn’t suffer from just a little anxiety. What you need is Valium. It did wonders for me after my divorce from You-Know-Who.”

I didn’t really know who, since she’d never bothered to tell me the name of He-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless, but I got the gist of what she was saying anyway. I appreciated the suggestion, but if there was one thing I didn’t need right now, it was more pills. No, I’d get through my anxiety the old-fashioned way. Time and distance did wonders for such things.

After we finished eating, we let the kids take a few of the kiddie rides, the ones that used only one or two tickets and basically did nothing more exciting than revolve in slow motion. Their choice of music was interesting for a ride designed for small children: AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell.” Whatever happened to “Someday My Prince Will Come”? Was I living in the Dark Ages?

By midafternoon, Claudia and I were both worn out, my ankle was letting me know that it’d had just about enough, and I’d completely forgotten Mystery Man. The kids had already lasted an hour longer than we’d predicted, and showed no signs of stopping. “One more ride,” Claudia said sternly. “One more, and then we leave.”

“I wanna do the House of Horror!” Dylan said, and the girls immediately added their enthusiastic agreement.

“What do you say?” Claudia asked me. “This one doesn’t revolve, and there’s no chance of you falling off and breaking a leg. Why don’t you come with us?”

I started to decline, but Taylor stepped up to me and slid her hand in mine as smoothly as though it were an everyday occurrence. “Please,” she said softly. “I really want you to come.” My heart nearly stopped beating. My throat clogged, and tears, ridiculous tears, threatened to spill. Sadie had been so easy. But Taylor, feisty Taylor, our own personal mini-Tom, had been a tough sell. Her timing was impeccable. All these weeks I’d spent trying to win her over, and now,
now,
she’d finally decided to like me.

My heart wept at the irony of it.

But I couldn’t let her see how touched I was.

Instead, I closed my hand over hers and said, “For you, my love, absolutely.”

Before I could change my mind, Claudia hustled me into line. Somehow, I’d ended up carrying Tweety after Taylor’s arms got tired. I got a few curious glances from some of the small children, undoubtedly wondering what an ancient woman like me was doing with a yellow bird the size of a house. And from their mothers, there were a few sympathetic smiles because I had to lug the obnoxiously adorable creature around all day.

“I’ve never been through one of these things before,” I told Claudia as we inched closer to the entrance. “I don’t know what to expect.”

“Expect the unexpected. Just keep moving. If you stop, you’ll bog down the line going through.

Remember, it’s supposed to be a little scary. That’s what makes it fun.”

“Speak for yourself,” I muttered. We reached the entrance, and something—maybe just a tingling at the back of my neck—made me turn around. I caught just a glimpse of Mystery Man’s face. He was hovering not five feet away, hands tucked innocently in his pockets, his eyes focused directly on me. Then before I had time to think, I was shoved through the entrance and instantly plunged into utter darkness.

“Claudia?” I said. “He’s here. I just saw him outside.”

“Keep moving. There’s nothing you can do about it now. Dylan, stay with the girls. Don’t let go of each other. Keep working your way through to the end.

We’ll meet you outside.”

All around us, the amplified screams of the tortured and the maniacal laughter of their torturers echoed in full stereo. Ahead of us in the darkness somewhere, I heard Sadie shriek in gleeful terror.

Totally blind, I fought my way through something wet and slimy that hung from overhead. I moved into an area lit with a black light. Ahead of me, I could see Sadie’s T-shirt and Taylor’s shoelaces glowing purple. Somebody tapped me on the shoulder. I turned, and was greeted by a skeleton in all his grinning, purple-boned splendor. He stood behind the half wall that separated the tormenters from the tormented. His bony hand lay on my shoulder and his face was inches from mine. I knew it was all in fun, but the tiny shriek I let out was totally involuntary.

I passed through a heavy curtain, into a narrow passageway where cold, clammy hands, grasping and clutching, reached out for me as I passed. I ducked and twisted and did my best to avoid them. The maniacal laughter continued. So did I. Ahead of me, something swayed. I could feel the breeze as it moved back and forth. I reached out and touched it. The instant I made contact, I realized it was a man—or rather, a replica of a man—swinging by his neck from a rope. His eyes lit up fire-red, and he looked so real that I stopped short, afraid at first to pass by. I reached out a tentative finger and poked him. His clothes were real, but the rest was electronic. Okay. I’d had about enough of this place. Which way was out?

I moved forward into another dark chamber, eager now to get the hell out of Dodge. Somebody bumped into me from behind. A hand grabbed my wrist, and I turned, expecting to see another ghoul.

But I was still in darkness, and whoever had hold of me was on my side of the wall. “Let go of me,” I said, but the hand held fast.

“What’s the matter, Julie? Scared, are you?” Damn right, I was scared. But I didn’t intend to show it. “Who are you?” I demanded. “How do you know my name?” Ahead, I could hear Sadie’s delighted shrieks, growing more and more distant.

“Claudia?” I shouted.

More maniacal laughter. “Claudia’s not here,” he said, and clamped a hand over my mouth.

The panic was instantaneous. I struggled. He shoved me hard against the half wall that separated us from whatever electronic devices operated this house of hell. “Let go of me!” I said. Behind us, a woman screamed, loud enough to wake the dead.

“I have a message for you,” he said, his voice soft enough so only I could hear it amid the din. “You need to—
oof.
” I elbowed him directly in the solar plexus. Taking advantage of his momentary distress, I broke away. Fighting my way through another curtain, into yet another dark space, I became disoriented. Which way had I come? Before I could figure it out, I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck. He tackled me, and we fell to the floor, jarring the hip that hadn’t quite recovered from my recent fall.

“Help!” I shouted as we rolled and tumbled on the floor. “Help me!” He cuffed me to shut me up, and the warm, salty taste of blood trickled into my mouth. I reached out blindly for a weapon. My hand came into contact with Tweety. I didn’t hesitate. I picked up the giant yellow bird and began clobbering him over the head with it. “Help!” I screamed, to no avail. Everybody in this place was screaming for help of one sort or another. I bashed him one more time with the giant Tweety, took a deep breath, and yelled the one thing I figured would get anybody’s attention: “Fire!”

 

Twelve
“So you didn’t get a look at him?”

I was sitting in the first-aid tent, a damp cloth pressed to my split lip, while Claudia and the kids looked on with varying degrees of concern. I glanced at the head of security. He was seventy-five years old if he was a day, with the legacy of too many years of fried dough and sweet Italian sausage settled around his middle. “I told you,” I said for the third time, “I saw him outside. It was too dark inside to see anything.”

“So in other words, you didn’t see him.”

“Look, I know who it was. I saw him three times outside. He was following me around. I can describe him to you. Tall, skinny, greasy, slicked-back hair, tattoos. An eagle with a flag clasped in his talons.

Ask my friend. She saw him, too.”

“Ayuh. Do you have any idea how many fellas have that same tattoo? Especially since the Iraq War.

Everybody’s patriotic these days. And you say he called you by name? Seems odd, considering you didn’t know him.”

“You think? Yes, he knew my name. He called me Julie. He said—”

“You don’t suppose he could have heard your friend here calling you by name? You said he was standing right nearby when you were in line for the House of Horror.” Barney Fife cleared his throat. “Assuming, of course, that he was the same man who assaulted you.” This was going nowhere fast. “Look,” I said, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to go home now. Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue the Fair Committee. I just want to get out of here, go home and soak my aching body in a tub of hot water. If that’s not too much to ask?” The codger exchanged glances with the first-aid nurse and said, “I guess that would be all right. But I’ll need your contact information. Just in case.” Right. Just in case the guy who attacked me walked up to him, held out his unshackled wrists, and said, “Please arrest me.” Because that was the only way it was going to happen.

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