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Authors: Michael Bray

Funhouse (17 page)

BOOK: Funhouse
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Andrew, sir.” I replied.


You got a last name, or is it just Andrew?” He cackled, his eyes flicking to Luke for a second, then back to me.


Thompson.”


Ahh, you must be Annie Thompson’s kid?”


Yes sir,” I replied.

He paused and sniffed the air, then licked his lips.

“Well, you be sure to tell your mother that old Benson said hi.”

I nodded, and even though I wasn’t scared, not then at least, I was a little uncomfortable, because his attention had moved away from me, and he was staring at Luke with greedy, hungry eyes.

“Say boy.” He said, managing to tear his eyes away from Luke and back to me.


Yes sir?”


Would you do an old man a favour, and get me a lemonade from the corner store?” He said as he thrust a handful of change in my direction.

I knew the store, as I went there all the time. It was just a little way down the street and I could see the blue and yellow awning above the door from where I stood, my forearms leaning on the handlebars of my bike.

“I would sir, but I can’t take my bike into the store and my mother doesn’t want me leaving it out on the street.”


Well, you can just leave it right here with me, I’ll look after it for you.” He said, his eyes flicking back towards Luke and lingering there for a while.

I shuffled and stared at my feet.

“I shouldn’t, I only just got it for my birthday,”

Benson paused, flicking his tongue back and forth inside his mouth, then clapped his hands and grinned.

“Okay boy, how’s about this? Your friend here can stay here with your bike whilst you run and get the lemonade. How does that sound?”

I looked at Luke, who shrugged his indifference. He obviously wasn’t picking up any bad vibes, and that in turn made me feel foolish for being so spooked.

“Okay.” I said, climbing off my bike and leaning it against the alleyway wall. “I’ll be right back.”

He handed me the change and I ran as fast as I could to the store. Hell I think I ran everywhere back then, but I pushed just a little bit harder this time, because I wanted to get back, and not only to my
bike. The fact is that I didn’t want to leave Luke alone with Benson any longer than I had to.

All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind about what would happen when I got back, but when I did, Benson and Luke were chatting, and I felt foolish for the second time in quick succession. The old man saw me coming, and grinned. “Ah, here he is.”

I held the bottle of lemonade out to him and he smiled and shook his head.


You know son, I don’t really much feel like lemonade anymore, but I’ll tell you what. Since you were good enough to go, you and your friend here can share it.”


That’s okay, you can maybe drink it later.” I said, setting the lemonade down beside him and climbing back on my bike. “We have to go. It’s getting late.”


Nice to meet you Mister,” Luke said as he turned his bike around.


Benson, son. You can call me Benson.”

Luke nodded, and I risked looking the old man in the eye. I had expected to see some hint of the darkness that I could sense, but his gaze was friendly, and yet again I wondered if I was making more of the situation than I should be. Luke and I set off, leaving Benson and his alleyway behind. I had intended to ask my mother about him when I got home, but within half an hour I had pushed the thought to the back of my mind. By the time I actually arrived back at the house later that night, I had forgotten it all together.

It wasn’t until a week later that Benson popped into my mind, right after Luke died.

At first, I was convinced that Benson was responsible somehow, and it wasn’t until a few days later when my mother told me that he died in his sleep that I accepted that Luke’s death was just a tragic accident. She said there was some kind of problem with his heart that nobody had known about until it was too late. Just like that, I had lost my best friend. It was my first experience of death, and it hit me hard. For a few weeks I was inconsolable.

I next saw Benson a few months later, talking to a kid I knew from school called Charlie Denner. It was as if time had stood still for Benson, and he had been waiting there at the end of the alleyway since I last saw him. He was dressed the same, looked the same, even the weather was the same.  He looked up and saw me walking towards him, and although I expected fury or surprise that I had interrupted him, he simply flashed his gummy grin and waved at me.  A quick stab of terror raced through me, but I waved back, and think I even managed a smile. Maybe it was just because of my earlier discomfort around him, but I didn’t like how he looked, bathed in that deep orange glow of pre-dusk. The shadows made his thin face look almost skeletal, and from where I was, they fell across his face and made his eyes looked like empty, gaping sockets. I went straight past the alley without stopping, and although I didn’t look over my shoulder, I knew Benson was watching.

Charlie died a week
later.

Just
like Luke, they said it was natural causes, but I didn’t believe in coincidence, and somewhere, deep down, I knew that it had something to do with Benson. I asked my mother about him, trying my best to feign disinterest despite my incredible curiosity. I watched for any hint of terror or horror when I mentioned his name, but she only smiled.


Oh, Benson is a lovely old man. He has lived in that alleyway for years.” She said as she set the dinner table.


Why doesn’t anyone help him or try to get him a home?”


Well, that’s the strange thing. He has a home. He’s actually a very wealthy man. I think he had some family issues and decided he preferred to live out on the street.”


So what happened to his house?” I asked, trying to imagine what kind of man would willingly sleep rough unless they were up to no good.


His daughter lives there now, I think. As far as I know he gave her the house and all his money.”


How long has he lived there in the alleyway?” I asked, still watching carefully to see if she would give anything away.


Oh, it’s been years. Your father remembers him living there when he first bought this house, so at least ten years.”

I wanted to tell my mother my suspicions about Luke and Charlie, and how I thought Benson was responsible, but I daren’t yet in case I was wrong. After all, she was my mother, and if she said he was harmless, I owed it to her to believe it.

The following week I went out of my way to ride past the alleyway. It was a cold, grey morning, and although I couldn’t decide if I was afraid or excited, I actually ended up being disappointed because when I arrived, Benson wasn’t there. I stopped my bike at the mouth of the alleyway, and stared into it. It was pretty unremarkable. It ended after around twenty five feet with a huge brick wall. There was a large green dumpster about a third of the way down and behind that, the shadow of a recessed doorway.

I inched my bike into the alleyway, wrinkling my nose at the smell. It was ammonia and garbage and something else which I couldn’t place. I wondered as I made my way into the alley how anyone could live in such conditions.

“Mr Benson?” I called out, or maybe I whispered. I couldn’t be sure.

My stomach churned and my heart was beating fast, but I didn’t turn back. I was at the edge of the dumpster, and paused. I think I almost turned and ran then, but I was determined to see it through. I edged forward, and looked into the doorway.

Empty.

Not only empty, but there was no sign that anyone had even set foot in the alleyway for years, let alone lived there. Nothing added up, apart from the fact that I was surer than ever that there was more to Benson than met the eye.

It rained every day that week, but even so I went past the alleyway every day, sometimes three or four times a day to try and catch a glimpse of Benson, but he was never there. Even though I had nothing to go on, and nobody else seemed concerned with him, my curiosity grew into obsession and then into frustration with his constant no shows.

I had almost given up on ever seeing him again when I decided to have one last ride past the alleyway. The bad weather had cleared, and it was one of those deep orange hued afternoons, where the shadows were long and the first stars are just starting to become visible. I rode towards the alleyway, my shadow elongated and racing ahead in front of me, and when I rounded the corner I drew a sharp breath.

He was there, timeless as always sitting on his overturned crate and watching the world go by. He had a sly, secretive smile, and as I approached, he flicked his eyes towards me.


I understand you've been looking for me, sonny.” He said, the sly smile elongating on his thin lips.

Excuses raced through my brain along with lies and denials, but I chose to tell the truth instead, because I needed to know what Benson was all about.

“Yes, I have.”


Why?” He asked as he watched a couple walk past with their dog.


I want to know what you did to Luke and Charlie. I came back, but you were never around.”


Oh, I’m always around.” He said with a dry chuckle. “I’m never too far away.”

It was as if the rest of the world had melted away and it was just me, Benson and the alleyway. I said the words before I had really thought about them. Maybe because I had a feeling there were no secrets from Benson, and suspected that any bluffing would be pointless.

“I think you killed Luke and Charlie.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, and I waited for a denial, maybe an outburst or for him to threaten to tell my mother, and in some way that would have been better, because it would have been a normal reaction. Instead, he sighed, and turned his attention to the road. He watched as people walked back and forth and I stood in silence, waiting for whatever came next.

“It’s not what you think.” He said, squinting up at me. The sun was low now, and the shadows were deep and cast his wrinkled skin into black scars.

I wanted to ask him more, but quickly realised that real life wasn’t like it was in movies or on TV shows where the star always had a witty retort or comeback. I was too afraid to do anything but stand and stare. He smiled, but it was wistful, and somehow tired.

“You couldn’t imagine how much of a burden it is.” He said, letting out another deep sigh. “It just has to be done.”


Are you going to kill me?” I asked, dreading the answer, but needing to know all the same.

He looked me up and down, his eyes dark and probing. I felt invaded, and his gaze came to rest on my shadow. He frowned, sniffed the air, and tapped his fingers on his tattered trouser leg.

“No. No I’m not. You're one of the good ones.”


Charlie and Luke…?”

He looked at me, and whatever darkness that had been in his eyes when he looked at my shadow was gone. He was the same tired old man that everyone else saw.

“They had to go son. Best to catch them early.”


What do you mean? I don’t understand.”


Bad people. Bad, bad people.” He muttered, and turned his gaze back to the street as everyone else went about their business around them.


Luke was my friend, he wasn’t bad.” 


Bad, bad, bad, bad.” He muttered, scratching at his matted hair, which stuck up at the back like Einstein.


I have to tell the police.” I said.

He looked at me and grimaced, the expression horrific due to his absence of teeth.

“If I show you why, will you promise not to tell?”

I could see that he was upset, and that made me curious.

“I don’t understand.”


You will.” He said simply. “As long as you see for yourself.”


Then show me.” I said before I could change my mind.

He nodded, and then he did it.

 

He closed his eyes and exhaled, the breath seeming to last for an eternity, then he opened them and breathed in. My shadow, deep and rich as it lay across the ground was drawn up towards his mouth. I was frozen, watching as he sucked it in, and like a glass his eyes started to fill with opaque from bottom to top as he took it in.

It happened instantly. It wasn’t a flashback, or a series of images, but suddenly I knew. I understood everything. I saw snatches of images which punctuated the stream of knowledge passed to me from Benson.

I saw Luke as the friend I knew, smiling and perched on his bike, only his shadow was warped and distorted, shimmering on the ground next to my perfectly normal one. I saw him as a man, and what would have become of him. How he would become a prolific and violent serial
killer of children and women.

BOOK: Funhouse
14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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