PillowFace (18 page)

“Richard,” said Sharon. “Don’t be nasty.”  She took the phone from him and offered it back to Ray.  Reluctant to take it, he stepped forward, cautiously reaching across the table for it. 

“I’m going to be nasty,” he said.  “My daughter,” he felt a nudge, “Excuse me,
our
daughter
doesn’t need to be sending messages like this to
him.
”

“I know you hate me,” he said, “but can’t you see where I’m coming from?” 

“Yes,” said Sharon.  “We can see that very much, but you have to understand, it’s coming off more like jealousy.” 

“What?” 

“You’re acting as if you seem more worried about
what
she’s doing than over what may have happened to her.” 

Scoffing, “That’s not it at all.” 

“Whatever the case may be, you just need to express yourself better.” 

More reasons why he loved this woman, why he’d married, devoted his whole life to her, and fathered her child.  She was worth all those dangerous trips and adventures. 
Worth every damn one of them
.  She’d hit the nail on the head with that last comment, and he was proud. 

Then she turned to him.  “And, so do you, for that matter.” 

How could she betray him like this?

“What are you talking about, Sharon?” 

“The way you’re talking to Ray, you need to calm down.  He’s obviously upset, and so are you, but neither of you are expressing it properly.  This should be a shared moment between you guys.  Father and, pardon the lack of terminology here, lover, teaming up to uncover the reasoning behind Tonya’s disappearance.  Yet, you’re not and are close to fighting and you know it.” 

Richard looked at Ray.  They shared the same look of agreement.  She was right. 

“All right, Ray,” said Richard, “I’ll admit, it’s odd that she might have just taken off. But, did you ever consider that maybe she just blew you off for something else to do instead?” 

“She wouldn’t do that.” He sounded certain. 

  “And, why is that?” 

He smiled, “Because, I’m Clay Ray. And,
no one
does that to Clay Ray.” 

What small amount of pity he had felt toward this kid quickly evaporated. “Get the hell out of my house.” 

“What?” The same dumb, shocked expression popped up on his face.

Sharon leaned over. “Richard?”

He held a hand up to her before she could say anything else. “I don’t want to hear any more about how I need to express myself better, Sharon.  That’s bullshit.  I’m expressing myself just fine.” He looked at Ray.  “Right?” 

He shrugged, the cigarette flopping from his mouth. The ash needed to be discarded before it dropped onto the floor. And, God help Ray if he spilled ashes all over his expensive tile. 

“I’m pissed off, and I think I’m expressing that
clearly
. I mean, there’s no way he could misread what I’m directing here.  So, I’m going to say it one more time, get out or I’ll throw you out.” 

He nodded.  Curving his hand into the shape of a bowl, he took the cigarette out of his mouth, and flicked the ashes in his palm. “Do me a favor…”

“No.” 

He groaned.  “Just please have her call me and at least let me know she’s all right.” 

“If she wants to call you, she will.  Are we clear?” 

“Yes.”

“Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.  God forbid a piece of our property damages the goods of Clay Ray.” 

Walking like a child being sent to his room without supper, he left.  They sat in silence until hearing the muffled roar of his car as it drove away.  After that, Sharon looked at Richard, pity showing on her face.  “You were awfully rude, Richie.”

“Oh, please.  A kid like that needs a kick in the ass every now and then.  Did you see how convinced he was?” Imitating Ray, he sat up straight, twisting his features to best match his.  “No one does that to Clay Ray.”  He shook his head.  “Please.” 

“Well, he’s right.  Have you ever known Tonya to stand him up?”

Surely, there had to have been at least one occasion where she had been smart enough to do so, but he couldn’t think of any presently.  Without an answer to offer her, he only shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“Does seem strange.” 

“Maybe she had an epiphany. Or, someone better came along.” 

“Better than Clay Ray?”  She asked, her smile reeking of sarcasm.

“God,” he said.  “She could only go downhill from there.” 

They shared a laugh at the kid’s expense.  “But, seriously, what if he was
right?
”  Don’t you remember the side door being left open?”  Sharon’s sarcasm was gone, and all that showed was a mother’s worry. 

He sighed. “We agreed she probably left that door open herself after she was lying out in the sun.”  That explanation did nothing to falter Sharon’s worry.  “Look, if she’s not home by noon, I’ll call around to some of her friends.  And, if that doesn’t turn up anything, I’ll go look for her myself.” 

“Not without me.” 

“That’s fine.” He raised his hand to her hair, combing a few loose strands away from her lovely face.  Hardly a wrinkle, or worry line. 
Keep this up, and she’ll be showing plenty. 
He was angry at Tonya for making her mother worry like this, for making
him
worry like this, too.  Though he wasn’t showing it, he was scared to death that something was wrong. 
What if she’s hurt?  Or, was in an accident? 
He found himself wanting to laugh.  Sharon had been right all along.  He didn’t know how to express his
true
feelings. 

Wouldn’t do any good,
he thought. 
Me flying off the deep end with Sharon, and not to mention Clay damn Ray, so close to teetering off the brink themselves. 

“So,” said Sharon.  “For the time being, it looks like we have the house to ourselves.” 

He smiled.  “Yes, it appears so.” 

A sheepish look on her face, she said, “Want to join me upstairs?” 

“That’s a dumb question. When do I
not
want to join you upstairs?” 

She laughed. “That’s an even dumber question,” then stood up, untying the robe she’d been wearing.  Opening it for him, she gave him a quick glance of her soft naked skin that was hidden behind the cloth.  He saw the dark tuft of groomed pubic hair briefly before she closed the robe back. “Come on.” 

“I’ll be right up, let me guzzle the rest of this coffee and put my cup away.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Want me to break out the blindfold?”

“And restraints?”

She bit down on her bottom lip, excited. “Want me to?” She looked as if she had to pee very badly and was holding it.   

“It’s been a long time.” 

“All right.  Don’t keep me waiting, or I’ll really make it hurt.” 

“That’s how I like it.” 

She laughed.  “Yes, you do.  You’re such a bad boy.”

“You love it.”

“Never said that I didn’t.”  With a beaming grin, she pranced away from him on a path to the stairs. 

He pictured her waiting for him, lying on her side in nothing but high heels, gently rubbing the blindfold over the slopes of her breasts, tickling the dark coins of her nipples. 

Something stirred in his pajama pants. 

Hello, old friend. 

He grabbed his coffee, and chugged the last little bit. 

Damn that Ray
. 
Coming over in the middle of the damn night, upset because Tonya had ditched him.  That’s all it was, she’d ditched him, and he wanted to get her back by getting us involved. 

That had to be it. In a neighborhood like this, nothing bad happened.  That’s why they’d moved here. The country. Peace and quiet.  They knew their neighbors and vice versa, a tight community of folks that watched your house for you when you went out of town. 
That kid next door, though he has a weird taste for movies, is actually a trustworthy kid.  His sister is nice, too
.  When they’d leave on their adventures—normally the ones that Sharon had convinced him to seize–he felt comfortable in knowing that he’d come home to an undisturbed house. With those two next door there was no way someone could get in and take something…or someone. 

Like Tonya.
His scalp crawled.
Please let her be all right. 
Richard was sure that nothing had happened to her.  That damned Clay Ray, putting these crazy thoughts in his head; he should be shot for it. He smiled at that.  He hoped he might be the triggerman. 

“
Richieeeee?”
Sharon called from upstairs, a needy whine in her voice. 

She wanted him, desired for him to be upstairs right now.  He liked it when she became pouty like that. 
Clingy.
  Meant she would unleash herself once he got up there. 
Hope she doesn’t leave many bruises like last time. 
That had been rough.  She’d gotten way out of hand, and hurt him,
a lot
.  It was tough trying to explain them to people that happened to see them, which was why it had been so long since he’d allowed her to tie him up.   He figured this time would be twice as bad.  It had been so long since she’d been able to let loose like this, and even though neither of them suspected anything bad had happened, the possibility that Tonya was in danger was still crossing both of their minds.  So, she’d be extremely aggressive and agonizingly slow with her punishment just to keep her mind off of where her daughter might be.

Or, the shape she might be in.  

He stood up from the table, took his mug to the sink, and placed it inside. She called out for him again, this time it sounded much more pitiful.
I’m really going to get it this time.
Although he enjoyed the torture, enjoyed letting her do whatever she could conjure up to him, he still needed to groom himself for her wrath. It was fun in the moment, but when it was done, she usually left him sore and drained, with the aftermath vividly displayed on his body. 

Just don’t let her make me bleed
too
much.

A little blood was fine as long as he wasn’t gushing.
 

He headed for the stairs.

Always those gorgeous eyes…

(I)

As the sun began to climb, showering the black sky in orange and yellow, the perpetual night for Joel and Pillowface was finally ending. 

They traveled in silence, and by this point Joel could hardly lift his feet.  He’d overestimated where they should have exited.  His plan was to come out right behind the house, but when they stepped out of the trees, he realized they were much farther up, and in this neighborhood, that meant they had quite a hike back. 

“I messed up,” he said, eyes narrowed from fatigue, the lids felt heavy and itchy.  “We came down the wrong side of the hill.  Shit.”  He was angry with himself.  Walking back through the woods would add an extra fifteen minutes to their journey, and Haley might wake up and find that he wasn’t home. 
Maybe she’d believe I went for a walk? 
He glanced down at his filthy clothes and knew right away that wouldn’t work. She’d believe he went pig wrestling before taking a walk.  Looking up and down Marble Lane, all appeared deserted.  No joggers, cars, no one walking their dogs. 

Where the sun was now positioned it smeared the sky with a purple aura and sheet of red, but to Joel it looked as if the sky was bleeding.  He looked back the way they’d come, and shrugged. 
I’m going to guess it’s about five in the morning.  We should be safe if we just keep going.

“Come on,” he said.  He waved Pillowface forward and began walking. 
Hope like hell no one sees us.

The neighborhood at this hour, so different than it was during the night, yet so similar, seemed to be observing them with accusatory resolve as they traveled back to the house.

(II)

When the alarm clock buzzed Haley’s first thought was she was running late. She sat up disoriented, whipping her head around the room. With the alarm pulsing behind her, she allowed her mind time to assess the situation.

In my bed…alone…that’s right, because Alan is at the bookstore.  No, wait, that’s not it, he’s at home?  That’s where he should be, it’s morning.  It is morning, right? 
She looked at her window and saw the early, gentle sparks of daylight.
Then she faced the nightstand beside her. 7:30 am. She wasn’t late at all, and actually was up earlier than normal. Since she hadn’t slapped the snooze button three times, she had plenty of time.  She reached over and whacked her hand down on the clock.  Now with that annoying beep gone, she could hear the constant clamoring of her cell phone’s alarm, too. She reached behind her, found it on the pillow, and shut it off. 

Her sore and stiff muscles informed her she wouldn’t be jogging this morning.  She felt uncomfortable at the thought, like she was letting her body down by skipping one lousy morning of exercise.
I really should at least jog up the road and back one time.
But, even that felt unfeasible, so she decided against it.

Should just lie back down, sleep another hour, then call Jon
esey and tell him I’m not coming in, and then sleep some more. 
She liked
that
idea, especially after the night she’d had.  But, by doing that, it would appear as if she were hiding from him—she is—and that could make things even worse for her at work.  Plus it might entice Jonesey to visit her at home to see how she was doing.  “Haley, I brought you some coffee.  Let’s make a toast.  To us.”

She shuddered. 

Why don’t I just quit that place? 

That was twice she’d considered it in twenty-four hours.

Seriously though, why hadn’t she quit?  Was it because a part of her liked having
some
one, even as ghoulish as Jonesey, being infatuated with her?  Shadowing her, following her around like a little troll, always needing to sniff the air she’d wafted through?  Jonesey was a
stalker
, nothing more, plain and simple as it may be
. 
Mostly just at work pestering, but that all changed last night when he’d brought his game to the store. 

Haley threw the sheets back, exposing her naked body to the cool air blowing up from the vents.  On warm mornings such as this one, it normally felt great opening herself up in such a way, but not this time.  She felt gross and sticky, and even though she didn’t smell anything, figured she stunk of sweat and old sex.   Her groin felt sore and flaky: a regular feeling after a night of good sex.  And, it had been good, for
her,
but not so great for Alan.  Poor guy wasn’t even granted an orgasm.  She’d broken down into a ruin of tears before he’d gotten the chance. 

This made her feel pretty crummy. 
             

She checked her cel
l phone to see if he’d called. He hadn’t. As much as she’d like to hear from him, she assumed her chances with Alan had been shot. 
Might be for the better
. 
After all I did last night; he probably takes me for a nut job. 
She wondered if he were right.

At least there’s not any missed phone calls from the creeper. 

She sighed.  What a life she led.  A stalker at work, another weirdo calling her and pleasuring himself for her to hear, and the guy she actually cared about had probably been scared off.  She was a wreck.    

Haley climbed out of bed, and marched to her closet to pick out her day’s wardrobe.  Feeling as lousy as she did, she decided she would keep it basic and plain: a short sleeved purple shirt and gray pants.  She thought about wearing heels, but chose sandals instead.  Not flip-flops, these were open-toed, but buckled in the back. The outfit could almost pass as professional, so no one should say anything. 

She tossed them on the bed. Then went to the dresser and dug through her panty drawer.
Do I own anything other than thongs? 
At the bottom, tucked far away from the rest, she finally discovered a couple pairs of full panties, wide in the back, and since she didn’t want to be attractive today, these were perfect.  In the other drawer, she grabbed a thick white, cotton bra, so the notion of having breasts would be hidden from any suspecting on-lookers. 

Not today boys, sorry.
She didn’t want any part of her to seem as if it were welcoming a comment or stare from Jonesey, or from anyone at all. 

With her clothes in hand, she headed for the bathroom.

****

After the room had been empty for a few minutes, something stirred from within the closet. The slabs of clothes suspended from hangers parted, and from behind them Pillowface emerged.  After he and Joel had returned from the night’s voyage, he’d given the boy ten minutes to get in bed and fall asleep before sneaking back into the house, and into Haley’s room.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her and wanted so desperately to see her, so he’d peeled back her blankets and watched her sleeping for a while, the slow rise and fall of her bare chest.  Lying on her back, her full breasts receded against her body like mounds.  Her mouth was slightly parted, and she snored with a faint steady purr that he’d found adorable.  He’d wanted nothing more than to climb into bed with her and cuddle, to pull her to him, and hold her.  It’d been such a long time since he’d felt a woman sleeping beside him, the warmness of their breath on the back of his neck, the gentle squeeze of their arm if he happened to squirm against them.

Not since Amanda, and when she’d died from a sudden blood clot in her heart, he hadn’t wanted to be with another woman, but when he became cognizant of Haley’s existence that had all quickly changed.    

Now he stood beside her bed.  He took her pillow and raised it to the burlap sack where his stub of a nose was, then took a whiff.  Even through the mask he could still smell her pleasant fragrance, clean as if she’d just came from the shower. 

He heard the pipes groaning from inside the walls, water rushing through them. 
The shower
.  He pictured her under the spray, enveloped in suds and bubbles, her skin shiny and slippery.  Blonde hair plastered against her scalp and down the curve of her back; torrents of soapy water trickling over her hips, down between her buttocks, making her moan from the sheer pleasure that only an early morning shower could bring. 

His chest felt heavy with a yearning that pulled the air from his lungs.
Was it love? 
He didn’t want to jeopardize it by putting a name to it.  He was happy with just feeling something other than hate. 

With Haley in the shower, and Joel sleeping, he figured it was safe to go back down to the basement.  He was nearly finished constructing the device and wanted to finish.  All that was left to do was attach the saw blade.  He wasn’t sure where the idea had stemmed from, but he liked it, and hoped one day he’d be able to use it.  

He fled the room like a ghost, then the house, and returned to his dwelling below like a dragon protecting the lovely princess up above
.