Evil Heights, Book II: Monster in the House Page 11

  She simply gave him the most suspect and surprised look he'd ever been given. She actually folded her fists on her hips and stuck her elbows back. “More what?"

  He was hit with that flush again. “The garden,” he stumbled. “You know, the statues and stuff."

  "Oh,” she dragged the “oh” out long and slow like she'd just understood something really vague, then gave him a wink. “The garden? Okay. Sure."

  He could have kicked himself. Why did he say such a stupid thing: “Want to see more?” With the games this girl was obviously playing he knew he really needed to watch himself.

  Lee turned and waved back over his shoulder. “Come on."

  "Lead away, Mr. Tour Guide. I'm all yours,” she giggled. “Show me want you got. I'm not afraid."

  "Follow me, then.” Lee conspicuously ignored her last lines, not wanting to get baited again. He walked over to a path formed between a stand of Bradford pear trees, and some overgrown Crepe Myrtles. “You didn't bring any bread crumbs, did you?"

  It was her turn to give him her addled look. “Bread crumbs, whatever for?"

  He went for broke and reached out to touch her on the shoulder, ushering her along towards the path. “So we don't get lost."

  The way she responded, not at all shrinking away from his touch caused that dry little catch to come back into his throat. But, in short order, the bushes closed in, and Lee was forced to lead single file, even ducking under a kudzu vine that had stretched across the path.

  In a few minutes Lee began to think he was lost. He'd meant to take her right to the big, ugly fountain, but couldn't seem to find it. Phoebe though, didn't seem to notice or mind. She was everywhere. Her energy appeared boundless. She would run ahead and pull some leaves off of a bush, then throw them in the air and then scamper over to a stand of the dried up roses, finger and sniff a dead bud, and then hop back over to Lee catching up with long giant steps like she was playing a game of Mother May I.

  "Where are we going?” she finally asked. “Haven't we been by these bushes before?

  Lee stopped. He was looking for those huge, purple oleanders. That's where the fountain was. “Naw, it all just looks the same,” he lied. “I told you it was a maze."

  "You said it was a labyrinth,” she countered, hitching her fists to her hips. “I bet you do right well in school, don't you?"

  This was always a touchy subject. He usually preferred to not talk about his grades with other kids. And he certainly wasn't going to tell her he had just skipped a grade. But he couldn't help letting a little pride show through, coming back with, “I've been known to make an A or two."

  She got him with that limp-wristed shove again. “I bet you do. You seem like a smart guy. You don't talk like folks, either. I'd almost think you weren't from around here."

  He crossed his heart. “Born and raised. I've been here all my life. Maggie, my stepmom, she says I have a knack for sounding like the people I'm hanging around with. She says if I've been around Ronnie, he's my best friend, I sound just like him. She says she can tell who I've been with, by how I talk when I come home."

  "Kind of like a Mynah bird, huh?"

  Lee nodded. “I guess so. I don't know. I do know that my stepmom, Maggie, isn't partial to words like ain't. She gets royally pissed off if any of us say ain't around her."

  "Ain't ain't in the dictionary, ‘cause ain't ain't a word,” Phoebe shot back quickly.

  "Yeah,” Lee nodded. “That's what Maggie always says."

  "Well, she's wrong,” Phoebe replied. “Look it up. It's in there."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, really.” Phoebe batted her eyes and drew back like she was amazed. “I don't ever get many A's, in fact I'm happy to get a C, but at least I know that much. You know there's book smarts and real world smarts. There's this girl, Irene Taylor, I don't think she's ever made less than an A, ever. But let me tell you, Dumb—As—A—Post.” Phoebe stressed each of the last words saying them like individual syllables. “That girl couldn't find her butt to sit down on it without an instruction book. But hey, straight A's all the way. Her whole wall in her room is covered with honor roll certificates and junk like that. Makes you sick."

  Lee gulped. He definitely decided right then he didn't want Phoebe to ever see his room.

  "Hey, over this way.” He'd spotted the oleanders and was relieved to change the subject. “Let me show you this fountain. You won't believe it.” He set off at an angle to the path they had been on, and after two turns came around to the opening in the tall stand of bushes. He held his hand out as Phoebe came around behind. “Ta-da!"

  She stood back, rocking on her heels her arms crossed below the knot at the bottom of her blouse. The first thing out of her mouth was, “Now that's about the ugliest thing I think I've ever seen."

  Lee grinned. “I told you."

  Phoebe stepped right up and bent down to scoop out a handful of leaves and dried grass out of the bottom pool. She let the debris trickle out of her fingers. “It doesn't work, huh?"

  "Yeah it works,” Lee came back defensively. He walked over to the valve and gave it a twist, and then opened it up all the way.

  Within a scant few seconds the air hissed out of the top, and Phoebe jumped back. “Aaah, it's alive!” she squealed.

  Lee patted the stone bench. “Come here and sit down on the bench. It takes it a minute to get started."

  Phoebe looked a little suspicious, but she came over and plopped down pressing her knees tightly together.

  The fountain had started to spew gusts of water out of the top, each burst followed by a long hiss of air.

  Phoebe craned her head to look back over at Lee who was standing behind her. “Aren't you gonna sit down?"

  "In a minute. I've got to watch the valve."

  "Watch for what?” she asked warily.

  Just then the flow belched once and then evened out, sprouting silvery streamers up and out from the top. At the same instant Cupid began to rotate. Luck of the draw was that the misaligned jet was facing just to Phoebe's right. The stream that bounced off of Cupid's abdomen arced right out beside her. To Lee's total surprise she sat still and let the water hit her and pass over.

  "You did that on purpose,” she glared.

  Lee tried not to grin, but he couldn't help it.

  Phoebe twisted her head around and squinted at him. “You know I'll have to get you back for that?"

  "Aw come on now. It's not so bad.” He jumped over the corner of the bench in one powerful hop and walked right into the path of the flow as it came around, standing still and letting the drops fall right over his head. “See,” he said, a drop of water clinging to his nose. “It's not so bad. Actually, it feels pretty good."

  The stream was coming around towards Phoebe again

  Phoebe stayed right where she was, but at the last moment got up and stepped forward to let the stream pass over her head.

  "Aw come on, chicken?” Lee said, standing his ground and waiting for another pass. He even gave her a couple of clucks.

  Cupid was speeding up.

  "Maybe you like to be peed on,” she came back. “But I don't."

  Lee couldn't help but give her a little laugh. “It does look like that, doesn't it?"

  She nodded. Then she surprised Lee by side stepping right up over next to him and letting the stream come right across her, even opening her mouth to catch a few drops.

  Lee though to say something, but didn't.

  For a while they both stood where they were laughing each time the spray came around. The cool water did feel good. After one more pass the top bowl had filled, and water began to trickle down to the next below. Immediately, that lower bowl began to rotate opposite the direction of Cupid, and the terrible metallic grating sound groaned out from within.

  Phoebe jumped. “What on God's green earth is that?"

  Lee reacted, too, running over and scissor jumping the bench to land right at the valve. Quickly, he twirled the wheel off, and stayed there,
hand still on the wheel as the water flow slowly slacked off and died and along with it the terrible noise.

  He looked up at her. “I think something inside is rusty."

  Phoebe was holding her hands over her ears. “Sounded like the Burlington Southern crossing the road by our house at three a.m.,” she said, letting her hands down.

  Lee walked over. “Maybe we ought to let it alone for now. I think that all of the bowls are supposed to rotate, but the gears or drive shafts are rusted. Probably just needs some oil."

  "So you're a mechanic, too?"

  "No, but my dad is. He knows all about cars and stuff."

  "Well, Cupid needs a better aim,” she came right back. “Maybe your dad could come over here and fix him?” She made a really odd face. “You know, get it straight.” She put her fingers together and then drew her fingers apart a few inches, grinning mightily.

  Lee just looked at her. He couldn't believe this girl.

  She dropped her hands, but not her grin. “Or at least, if ol’ Cupid isn't going to aim better he should at least learn to raise the seat."

  The last had Lee red-faced, but smiling as well.

  A few strands of Phoebe's light hair had come loose and were sticking to her forehead. Her white blouse was clinging to her skin everywhere the water drops had hit her, the straps of her bra on her shoulders and the skin below were actually showing through. Lee tried not to stare, but couldn't help it. In the transparent patches where the fabric was sticking to her skin, Lee could see she had a healthy spattering of freckles on her shoulders as well as her face and neck. As if he wasn't even there, she reached up, and with both hands released another button and then pinched at the blouse flapping it back and forth again. “It's hot back in here,” she complained. “Isn't there ever a breeze?"

  In watching her, Lee's mouth had come open.

  Phoebe didn't appear to notice, or if she did, she didn't mind. She faced him brightly, the top of the blouse well open below her neck. “Where to next, Mr. Tour Guide? Or is that all you've got to show me?"

  He ignored her obvious bait. “You want to see the river?"

  "Sure. I guess. Which way?"

  Lee pointed. “Follow me."

  Keeping up side by side at first, but again single file where the plants grew in close, Lee led the way. A turn to the left and another to the right and they suddenly came across the statues of the children. Lee was more than a little surprised as he remembered them being in the other direction.

  Phoebe rushed over and knelt down by the boy. “Keen-o,” she crooned. “Look at these. They're so cute."

  Lee stood back, crossing his arms. “They really are lifelike, aren't they?"

  She reached up and gingerly touched the missing right ear. “Shame he's broken."

  Lee nodded.

  Phoebe looked up at Lee. “I'll name this one, Freddie."

  "Why's that?"

  "He looks like a Freddie."

  "Maybe you should change it to Fredrick?” Lee offered.

  She squinted back up him. “Yeah, how come?"

  "He's wearing Lederhosen,” Lee replied matter-of-factly. “That's what kids wear in Germany."

  Phoebe got up and brushed the dried grass clippings off her knees. When she looked back up she said, “Oh, Mr. Smarty pants, huh?"

  Lee felt his ears grow red.

  Phoebe tapped Lee on the shoulder, as she passed him by, walking over to the little girl. “I'm just teasin’ hon,” she knelt down in front of the statue and settled back on her heels. “I like the basket. What's she supposed to be carrying?

  "I think you're supposed to put flowers in there,” Lee offered.

  "Flowers, huh? I guess that'd be okay.” Phoebe touched the tip of the little girl's nose. “She's a cutie, though."

  Lee almost said, “Like you,” but he held his tongue. His ears were red enough as they were.

  Phoebe ran her fingers over each of the suspenders. “She's got Lederhosen on too?"

  Lee walked over and nodded.

  Phoebe looked up at him. “Over in Germany, do girls wear Lederhosen, too? Don't they wear dresses?"

  Lee shrugged. “I guess so. I don't rightly know."

  Phoebe had that squint come back to her eyes. “There you did it. You said rightly. That sounds like me. I've been noticing it ever since you mentioned it. You weren't kidding, you are like a Mynah bird."

  He didn't know if that was good or bad. He did know he didn't want to return her gaze just now, so he concentrated on the statue. Amazing what one button could do.

  Phoebe let it go and looked back, too, still keeping her hands on the suspenders. After a moment she said, “Do the girls in Germany go around without any shirts on?"

  He really hadn't been expecting this, she was showing a real knack she had for catching him off guard. “I don't know.” He found himself half stammering again. “I don't think so. How should I know? She's just a little girl anyway. Sometimes little girls don't wear shirts."

  "Yeah, I know.” Phoebe kept her eyes on the statue. “I used to run around in just a pair of shorts when I was real little. No big deal.” She looked up at him. “But she's not all that little.” To illustrate her point she ran her fingers over the statue's chest.

  Lee felt that dry tic cramp his throat again. He couldn't believe he'd actually just seen her do what she'd done. He thought frantically, and came up with something. “But you know, these statues came from Europe. They do things differently over there. You know, the French."

  "Like Bridget Bardot?” Phoebe immediately came back.

  "Yeah, like Bridget Bardot,” he replied, feeling vindicated, though for some reason he still felt embarrassed, like he'd been the one to just fondle the statue.

  "You know they even let kids drink wine and stuff over there,” Phoebe offered.

  Lee shrugged.

  "You ever gotten drunk?” Again she surprised him.

  "No,” he came back shaking his head, “not really.” Catching her look he added, “It's not because I think it's wrong; I just don't like it. Beer tastes like,” he searched, “well, like ol’ Cupid over there. And wine...” He shuddered.

  "Yeah, I don't much like beer either,” she agreed. “Champagne, though ... I had champagne at my cousin's wedding. A couple of us snuck a bottle. We got so smashed. I couldn't quit laughing. Of course the next day...” she rubbed her stomach and stuck out her tongue.

  Lee laughed again. “Yeah I know what you mean. We got an old guy around here that lives somewhere back in the woods and makes moonshine. Some of the kids know how to come a cross a bottle. I tried it once; it tastes like gasoline. Just a sip or two and...” he repeated to Phoebe's face.

  Phoebe didn't get to see his copy of her sick face. She had noticed the chips in the stone and was up close squinting at them. “Look at this. Hey, Lee, look at these marks. They look like bite marks."

  "Yeah,” he leaned in, “weird isn't it."

  "You know about these?"

  Lee nodded. “I saw them right off the first time I came back in here. The boy's got a couple of the bite marks, too, and the girl in the storm. Didn't you notice?"

  Phoebe stood up, her knees cracking with the effort. “No, I didn't.” She shook her head, squinting again. “How come they've got marks like that?"

  Lee still had his arms crossed, but now he reached out and pointed. “I don't know. But I do know the artist didn't put them there. See.” He touched the two crescent marks below the naval. “They have a different coloring than the rest of the stone.” He had wanted to say patina, but he didn't want to risk being called a smarty-pants again. “At that museum I went to I learned that stone ages kind of like how metal rusts. See the color inside isn't nearly as gray as the outside."

  She looked down following his finger where he was pointing. “What's that mean?"

  "It means these marks were put there sometime after the statues were first made. Not too long ago either. These statues might be a couple of hundred years old, but the
chips were made maybe five or ten years back, something like that anyway."

  "Look at this one.” She pointed to a row of the chips on the neck just below the jaw. “The stone in here is white. These look fresher than the others."

  Lee almost started. Right where she was pointing was a fresh crescent of indentations, plainly white, white. He felt a sinking feeling and that touch of chill. He knew he hadn't missed those when he'd been here before. He'd looked. They weren't there a couple of days ago. But then thinking about it, he realized he didn't really think he'd been exactly here before. This spot in the garden, though almost the same, was just a little different than what he remembered. Still, that's crazy, he told himself. Too though, the grass at the children's feet was all freshly mowed. Last time, Blondie hadn't been back through the garden with his mower when he'd been working back in here. The grass had been high around the statue's feet. And he was positive Blondie didn't edge or clip when he passed through. So maybe Blondie had moved them for some reason. He seriously doubted it, though.

  Phoebe leaned back coming all the way erect and stretched her arms putting her hands in the air, knotting her fingers together. “Whew, it's hot. How about showin’ me that river?"

  Lee kept looking at the marks. He just couldn't believe it. Then, a hint of that musty reek came to him carried in the air, though there was no breeze. All the bushes had distinct odors, especially in this heat, but this wasn't an oleander, honeysuckle, or crepe myrtle smell. It smelled like the house before Maggie had cleaned, like how he imagined the inside of the little house must smell.

  "Hey!” Phoebe shoved him on the shoulder. “You all right?"

  Lee started, coming back to himself.

  Phoebe still had a hold on his shoulder. “You're lookin’ a little peaked."

  "I'm okay,” he said giving her his half grin. That smell was gone. “Come on; let's go on to the river."

  She stepped back and waved her arm, bowing down low. “Lead away."