Soul Hostage (14 page)

     “Sorry for yelling at you, Louis.  Just tired.”  The words were out of my mouth before I even thought about them. 

     Joey’s face made an instant transformation.  I have heard people use the expression
turn that frown upside down
before, but this was the first time I had seen such a clear example.  His face was suddenly glowing with happiness, and I lost any crazy thought about having my mind invaded.    

     Even the voice from the backseat could not ruin the mood.  I am sure that you are exhausted from driving all night.  It’s certainly understandable that you might be a little short-tempered.”  Stoaffer’s sincere, comforting tone made my skin crawl a little, but I quickly brushed away the feeling.  “What’s important is that we can come to-gether and complete the mutually beneficial mission upon which we have embarked.” The smile stretched all across his face. 

     I glanced quickly into the backseat and said, “I think we all need some sleep and then we can make plans on how to get this thing done.” 

     “Let’s do it!”  Joey added with enthusiasm.

     I couldn’t help but to smile even as a new twinge of dread twisted in the pit of my stomach.

Chapter 7

     The closer we got to the houses, the stronger the feeling of dread got.  The dread did not come from the sense of something going to happen.  It was more like the sense that something bad had already happened and the results were all around. Maybe it was dread that some-thing bad had happened and was still happening.

    I turned right off the busier road into the one of the smaller streets leading into the housing development.  The conversation in the car stopped. We passed a big unsteady-looking sign with a once-brightly-colored-now-faded picture of a happy family playing in the front yard of one of the houses.  Even such a Norman Rockwell-style scene brought only more weight to the pit of my stomach. 

     The development was surrounded by a white wooden fence about seven feet high which had probably looked real classy at one time.  Now, the fence made me wonder whether it had been built to keep things out or to keep things in. 

     As soon as we drove into the area surrounded by the fence, I felt an almost overwhelming sense of depression.  It was sort of like  the feeling of having something that makes you real happy taken away.  I know it sounds silly, but I got a picture in my head of a happy little kid with a big red balloon.  Then some bigger kid comes by and for no reason pops the balloon.  That is the best way I can think of to describe it. Judging by the comments of my companions, no one shared my feelings. 

     “In comparison, I have to say that this place makes prison life look positively cheerful!”  Louis joked from the backseat.

     “Yeah, if this is how the better half lives, they can have it!”  Joey replied, and both of them laughed. 

     I tried to laugh along with them, but the sound kind of caught in my throat and only came out like a cough. “So, Louis, have you got any ideas about how to get started with this business?”  Something about his sunny expres-sion filling the rearview mirror made me want to needle him a little. “I mean you had lots of time in the joint to come up with some sort of plan.”

     I pulled the car to the side of the street and turned to face him. I was expecting some sign of irritation, but Stoaffer gave me the complete opposite.  His face lit up like I had just said something that delighted him.

     “Yes, that’s right.  Thanks for reminding me, Thomas.” I listened of it but caught no trace of sarcasm in his voice.  “While I was locked up, I spent many hours imagining what I would do once I got back to this place.  I pictured myself standing in front of Theresa and smiling as I stared into her shocked and then frightened eyes. I could feel the warm, pleasant tingling sensation as I became aroused.  In my mind, it was a clear moment in time.  No distractions.  In my mind, it was just her and me and all that had happened.”  Louis paused for a long time noisily juggling the mint in his mouth. 

     Finally, Joey could no longer stand the silence, and he asked excitedly, “So whadja do then’ Lou?  I mean in yer mind, didja slap the bitch?”

     Stoaffer did not answer right away.  The Lifesaver was still.   A smile curled his lips for just an instant and then was gone. “Well, that’s the strange part.  I never really got beyond that point.”  His voice was slow and flat.

     I have never been much of a poker player.  The reason this is I have never been very good at reading other people to see whether they are telling the truth or not.  This is crucial for winning in poker.  But none of that mattered, because right then I knew without a doubt that Stoaffer was lying.  And when he looked straight into my eyes, I was sure he knew that I knew he was lying. 

     This moment of mutual understanding was ended when Joey exclaimed, “Ah, c’mon Lou!  Didja fuck or fight?”

     Stoaffer shifted his gaze to Joey and smiled. “Joey, as much as I would like to answer your question, I cannot honestly tell you what happened next.  In my mind, I simply saw darkness at that point.  It was always the same.”

     It was clear from his expression that Joey was not pleased by this answer.  Having seen Joey not pleased in the past, I really expected him to charge forward until he got an answer which he liked.  But just as with so many other things over the last few days, what I expected did not happen.  Instead of simply charging ahead and pushing Stoaffer for some answer, Joey just smiled and said nothing.  Now, I was the one who was not pleased. 

     “What kind of guy does that?  Spends ten years in prison without imagining what he will do when he meets the person who put him away?” My frustration and maybe fear were clear in my voice. 

     I looked around at the car’s other two occupants expecting some sort of reaction.  I am not sure what I was expecting.  Anger?  Agreement?  Hostility?  Whatever I expected did not matter, because what I got was indifference. Both Joey and Louis were silently gazing out of the window. I turned to look straight down the street in front of the car. 

     I was barely holding in my anger. There is nothing worse than being furious and seeing the people around you are not paying any attention.  Just as I was about to scream, a hand touched my shoulder. 

     “Here.” The voice from the backseat was calm and quiet but left no doubt that it was to be followed.

      I pulled the car back to the curb and for the first time really saw the neighborhood.  The houses were fairly new but old.  I mean most of the places looked like they were in pretty good shape but left to the elements.  Most of them had yards full of overgrown weeds or just dirt where lawn should be.  Some of the houses had cars in front or in the driveway, but most did not.  The house in front of us looked pretty well abandoned.  The weeds in the yard were about a foot tall.

     Despite the absolute still of the neighborhood, I felt a bit nervous about being out in the open as we got out of the car and walked toward the house.  The place was clearly uninhabited.  But as if to remove any doubt, yellowing sheets of paper hung in many of the windows announcing:

Notice of Trustee Sale: 

Foreclosure process has begun on this property, which may affect your right to continue to live in this property. Twenty days or more after the date of this notice, this property may be sold at foreclosure. If you are renting this property, the new property owner may either give you a new lease or provide you with a 60-day eviction notice. However, other laws may prohibit an eviction in this circumstance or provide you with a longer notice before eviction. You may wish to contact a lawyer or your local legal aid or housing counseling agency to discuss any rights you may have.

     For some reason, the cold language of the law grabbed my attention. Maybe it was a dose of reality in a place that felt unreal. Anyway, I was standing to the right of the front door reading the notice when Louis grabbed my arm just above my elbow and said, “We should get inside, Thomas.”  

     Joey tried to open the front door but the knob just turned in his hand. He turned to look at us with a broad smile. “Not this way, Lou.”           

     Stoaffer stepped around me and then around Joey.  He

took hold of the knob and turned it.  It turned freely just as it had done in Joey’s hand.  I was standing close enough to see a perplexed expression cover his face as he took his hand off the doorknob and put it on his hip.  He stood still for a minute.

     I started to suggest that we try the backdoor, but something about the slight tremble which began moving through his body kept me quiet. It was like the tremor that goes through cartoon characters before steam shoots out their ears.  There was no steam to be seen here, but Stoaffer’s hand shot back to the knob. He twisted it again quickly while at the same time turned slightly to launch his shoulder into the door.  As he made contact, there was the sputtering sound of wood separating from wood.  It sounded like it had been a long time since that door was last opened.  It popped open with a complaint. 

     “All right, Lou!”  Joey cheered as he moved closer to the door.  “You got the magic touch!”

     The old man turned to look at us with a grin stretching his face.  Joey brushed past to enter the house.  As for me, I wanted nothing more than to be off that porch and through that door or anywhere else really.  I just wanted to be some place where I wasn’t staring at the grinning face of Louis Stoaffer. 

     Nothing more than wishful thinking, because that grin stretching his face to the point that it looked like it would split in two… that grin froze my feet in place even as my mind raced back to that moment in the grocery store when I first saw Stoaffer.  I saw the same strange glow which made me want to puke and keep puking until my insides spilled out.

     My vision blurred and then cleared enough to see him staring at me.  “Thomas, we really should get out of sight.”  The old man turned and walked quickly into the house without saying anything else.

     I was left on the porch by myself.  Of course, I didn’t really appreciate it at the time, but it was another one of those big moments in life that decide how things are going to turn out.  I mean, Stoaffer and Joey were in the house.  I had the car keys in my pocket.  Nothing stopped me from simply running back to the car, firing it up, and motoring out of this place.  In a matter of seconds, it could all be behind me.  It could all be just a bad memory.  So why didn’t I do it?  It was the perfect opportunity.  I could have escaped from the strange old bastard.  Maybe I could have gotten rid of the strange feelings of dread and some of the weird thoughts.  So why didn’t I do that?  Maybe it was fear of the unknown.  Like they say, “better the devil you know than the devil you don’t”.   In all honesty, I really don’t know why I didn’t get in that car and drive away as fast and as far as I could.  All I know for sure is that I walked off that porch and into that house.

     The first thing to hit me when I got inside was a strong musty smell.  It was a mixture of dust, mold, and shit.  The odor forced me to turn back to the open door and take a breath of fresh air.      

     As I was taking a gulp of air, a flutter of movement in the window of the house across the street caught my eye.  I was sure someone had passed quickly in front of the window.  The house looked as though it was still occu-pied; the lawn although brown and patch had been mowed recently and faded yellow curtains hung in the windows.  I wondered if whoever was there had seen us.  It suddenly occurred to me standing in the doorway was increasing the chances of being noticed.

     I stepped back into the house and closed the door.  Turning to face the stench and whatever else waited in the house, I stood on the dusty white linoleum just inside.  Sunlight from the windows gave the whole place a dusty almost foggy glow. Off to the right was a hallway which I figured led to bedrooms.  On my left was a kitchen. Straight in front of me was the living room.  Without any thought, my feet carried me toward the mound in the middle of that room.

     The heap was made up mostly of clothes. Lots of tiny t-shirts and shorts sat on top.  Some faded, adult-sized blue jeans and a women’s short red dress jumped out at me. Other pieces of clothes peaked out from the pile, but my attention was really captured by the toys.  Within the mound, a little girl’s dolls rested against a small red metal fire truck, a bunch of different-colored Legos buried dark green plastic toy soldiers, and random playing card struggled to make pairs for Go Fish.     

     I stood back from the mound and considered the variety of things.  A picture forced its way into my mind. 

     A man and woman stood right in front of me. They gazed at the pile. Both of them stood very still.  All of a sudden, the man let go of the woman’s hand and took something out of the pile.  As soon as he released her hand, the woman’s body sagged and began trembling.  For the first time, I was aware of a little girl with long, shiny, straight black hair sitting cross-legged on the floor next to me.  She had been crying and was ready to start again.  I heard before seeing a little boy of about four screaming as he ran toward a bright green and yellow tricycle sitting on its side at the back of the pile.  The woman stepped forward and grabbed the boy’s arm before he reached the tricycle.  As she turned him away from his goal, the woman revealed a tortured face with  mascara smeared from tears.  I wanted to do something.  I wanted to offer some kind of help, but obviously I was invisible to her. My sense of helplessness was quickly replaced by a pang of fear. The man turned and glanced though me to the front door. As he did so, I realized what he had taken from the pile. In his right hand next to his leg, he held a dirty black pistol. He did not threaten anyone with the gun, and it never moved from his side as he moved past me to the door.  As weird as it seems, I was scared for this family. I had never met these people. I did not understand how or why they found their way inside my head. In the next moment, my confusion was brushed aside by the shock of connection with the eyes of the little girl.  She looked right at me as tears streamed down her dirty face.