Cage Of Night Part 29

Soon enough, he'd be in prison for the murder he'd committed last night, and Cindy would be free to see me again.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

My mom and dad went to Franklin back in the days when school officials around here still tried to ban Elvis records from being played at dances.

Mom always talks about how girls wore saddle-shoes and petticoats and ponytails. Dad always talks about how boys wore black leather jackets and engineering boots and rode around in hot rods.

To be honest, it's kind of hard to imagine either one of my parents as "cool" kids. I keep trying to imagine them as "cool" kids but I can never quite finish painting the picture. And the photos they've shown me from time to time make them look as nerdy as I was in high school. Maybe that's the difference. I always knew I was a nerd. Maybe Mom and Dad were blissfully ignorant. Or maybe the entire cla.s.s was nerdy and so Mom and Dad fit in just fine.

In the moonlight, Franklin school stood dark and solemn and gutted, the char black and char gray of the fire that destroyed it still clinging to the two brick walls left standing.

Against the snow, the building had a kind of ugly beauty.

I parked my car a block away and took the alley so that n.o.body would see me pull up.

I crunched across the snow leading to the school. Overhead, above the clouds, I heard a jet roar across the prairie sky, leaving a plume of glowing white exhaust that angled across the full moon.

A collie came around the corner of the building, sniffing the ground for buried treasure. When he saw me, he swung away, heading across the open field behind the school.

No sign of Cindy.

I walked around the entire building, then carefully picked my way through the tumbledown inside. As children, we'd always been warned against playing in here. A small boy had fallen into a shallow hole soon after the fire, and had had his arm amputated as a result.

Cindy must have fallen down a hole. Still no sign of her.

I stood in the windless night staring at the brick building, trying to imagine the sounds of early Elvis records pouring from the open windows on a soft spring afternoon. And somewhere inside would be my parents, dancing in their petticoats and duck's-a.s.s haircut.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

When I turned, I saw her walking toward me from the alley. She'd taken the same route I had.

She wore a red parka and jeans. The parka hood framed her face and made her more beautiful than ever.

I couldn't help it. At that moment I didn't care about anything except being with her.

I walked over to her.

Neither of us said anything, just slid our arms around each other and came together in a kiss. "We'd better hide," she said, after a time.

Inside the burned out building, we found a niche of clean brick where we could sit down next to each other. It was cold there but I didn't care.

She said, "I told him."

"About what?"

"About us. Tonight. Meeting."

"What?" I looked at her as I would at a small child who'd just admitted doing something horrible. "Why would you do that?"

"He made me."

"G.o.d, Cindy."

"He stopped over at the house. Right after dinner. I didn't expect him. He got me alone in my room anda"and he knew that I was holding something back from him."

"So you told him about us?"

"Don't you understand, Spence, I didn't have any choice? He'd already figured it out for himself anyway. He's a very jealous guya"he's still jealous of David and David's dead. So you can imagine how he is about you."

I was angry enough to forget romance momentarily. I said, "You were with him when he killed Mae Swenson the other night."

She slipped her parka hood off. In the moonlight through the broken school window, I could see the fine lines of her face and the nervous beauty of her eyes.

"I tried to tell you before, Spence. But you wouldn't listen."

"Tell me what?"

"About the well."

"Dammit, Cindy, that's just a game you invented. There's nothing down that well."

She looked shocked, then hurt, then angry. "You think you know so much. You admit you heard something the night we were out there."

"The power of suggestion, Cindy. That's all it was."

"Well, David heard something. And so did Garrett."

"The same thing. Suggestion."

I couldn't stand the way she glared at me now, hating me.

I took her hand. At first, she tried to tug it away but finally she let its slender, tender warmth rest in my hand.

"Cindy, I talked to a shrink the other day."

"About what?'

"About the well."

"Oh. I'm sure he said I was crazy. Especially since I've already been in the hospital and everything."

"That isn't what he said at all."

We were silent for a time.

She said, "What did he say?"

"He called it Shared Psychotic Disorder."

"What does that mean?"

"Just that when one person imagines something and he shares it with somebody else, then that person imagines the same thing. And then they both begin believing it's true, even when it's not."

"I hate shrinks."

"He's a pretty nice guy."

"When I was in the mental hospital, one of them was always feeling me up."

"You should've reported him."

"They would've said I was crazy is all, and imagining things. Like this Psychotic Disorder you're talking about."

As gently as I could, I said, "That's what's happening with the well, Cindy. You imagine things, but you imagine it so vividly that you get other people imagining things too."

"David did what the thing in the well told him to do. He killed that clerk at the convenience store."

I sighed, said nothing.

"And Garrett did just what the alien told him to do, too. He killed Mrs. Swenson."

"You didn't have anything to do with killing either one of them."

"It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't brought them to the well," she said.

"If tke alien makes people kill, then why haven't you killed anybody?"

"That isn't what he wants me to do."

I see.

Angry: "Don't f.u.c.king talk to me like that! That's how everybody talked to me when I got out of the mental hospital. 'Now, now dear, don't get yourself excited."'

Her voice was loud and harsh on the prairie night.

The collie heard her and swung back for another look. He stood at where the entrance of the school had been and watched us for a long minute or two.

"I'm sorry."

"All right. Apology accepted."

Then: "All it wants me to do is bring boys to the well. That's my only part in it."

"But you went along with Garrett to Swenson's."

"He made me. He said he'd kill me if I didn't."

"You took me to the well. I didn't kill anybody."

"I think it has to do with innocence."

"I'm not exactly innocent."

"But you don't hatea"you're not angry."

"And David and Garretta""

"Rage. Most of the time, anyway. I think the alien can use that. It makes it easier for it to take control of them."

This was all insane but I had to be very careful not to let her think that that was what I was thinking.

"Did you see Garrett kill the woman?"

"Yes."

"So you could testify against him in court?'

"Yes." Pause. "But I'm just as guilty as he is, don't you see that? He wouldn't have done it if I hadn't brought him to the well."

I took her shoulder and turned her face full to mine.

"I want you to understand one thing, Cindy. These murders have got you so upset that you're blaming yourself. You didn't have anything to do with them."

"So you don't believe that there's an alien in that well?"

"I'm saying the alien doesn't matter."

"Then what matters?'

"That Myles and Garrett each chose to kill somebody."

"But they wouldn't have without me."

"Did you tell David to shoot the clerk?"

"Well, no."

"Did you tell Garrett to stab Mae Swenson?"

"No."