Marilyn (8 page)

TWENTY-ONE

The homely fire burnt bright, flicking ash onto the red hot grill. Every so often a crackle and bang escaped, throwing the flames high into the chimney stack where they danced, sprightly, to the songs of the wind and rain. A mound of freshly cut logs of different shapes and sizes bordered the fire place. Above, a mantelpiece crowded with pricey, hand-painted ballerina figurines, spread according to height.

The deep purple walls stood high and proud, emblazoned with family portraits, paintings and welcoming decorations, ignoring the clash with the rosy red carpet. There were three black bookcases placed in the corners, filled with everything from celebrity magazines to medical journals.

An oversized grey leather three-piece suite chilled out along the perimeter, patiently waiting to be used.

She crammed the dice into her small hands, rattled them around for a second above her shoulders like maracas and dropped them onto the board. Double three. She picked up the Scottie dog, counted with six nods of her head, and moved it six places around the board.

'Ah ha, I think you owe me some money, young lady, and by the looks of it, I don't think you can afford it,' Mr Dunn stated gleefully, admiring his stack of bills. 'I think that makes it two-nil to me.'

Lizzy picked up the remainder of her crumpled notes and threw them across the board.

'I don't think I want to play anymore,' she admitted, pouting with a smile.

'Come on, honey. It's not your fault your old man is so damn good,' Andrew bragged, leaning over to scrape up his winnings.

Lizzy turned her back, still smiling.

'Do you want to play best out of five?' Andrew asked, winking. 'I'll give you a head start if you like, how does that sound?'

'I bet you cheated when I wasn't looking,' Lizzy shouted, pointing an accusing finger.

'I don't need to cheat, I'm just that good,' Andrew bragged. 'So what next, shall I find some cards?'

There was a powerful knock at the door that sliced through the turbulent racket of the outdoors.

'Who the hell?'

Andrew Dunn got to his feet, pushing himself off his knees, as they buckled and creaked under the strain of his ever-inflating frame. He had spent the last hour sitting on the living room floor playing Monopoly, and he wasn't as young and slim as he believed himself to be. Getting up was now more of a chore than it had once been. He stretched his jumper down to his waist that had quietly been creeping up, exposing his gut, it was getting harder and harder to disguise. He began to sweat, but he ignored it.

'Who in God's name is knocking at our door in this weather, are they crazy?' he asked, speaking to no one in particular.

     'Andrew, where are you going?' Mrs Dunn warned, lowering her well-loved copy of Moby Dick. 'Be careful.'

Julie gracefully rose to her feet, holding her skirt in place. She was pretty, in an unconventional way, at almost forty-three she was no spring chicken.

'You stay there, Missy.' Julie pointed.

'But... mom.'

'But nothing. Sit your bum down, young lady.'

Lizzy sulked and folded her arms in protest. She scoffed at her mother’s decision and turned her head sidewards in objection like a spoiled little princess.

The Dunns, both Mr and Mrs, walked in the direction of the front door, Mrs Dunn walked behind Andrew, clinging to his robust midsection, her trim figure seeking cover behind his portliness.

'Ask who's there first, Andrew. You know, just in case.'

He turned and rolled his eyes playfully at Julie before he spoke.

     'Hello, can we help you?' he shouted through the closed door.

There was no reply, just the sound of the wind, whistling through the cracks of the old farmhouse walls.

'Maybe they can't hear you, Andrew.'

'Maybe they've gone?' he said, hopefully.

'Call again.'

'Hello? Can we help you?' he shouted, a little louder this time.

Nothing. Wind.

'I'm going to open it, I'll keep the latch on,' he decided.

'But Andrew?' She gripped his jumper with both hands.

'What if it's someone in trouble, huh? They may need our help, anything could have happened with weather like this.'

Julie's fingers tightened, her nails digging into the excess fat of Andrew's stomach.

He unlocked the door, click by tummy-churning click, until the final mechanical puzzle piece snapped into place. He left the chain where it was and yanked at the handle, welcoming their guests with a graceless demeanour.

A young, injured boy greeted them, soaked to the core, broken down. He was pale and probably needed medical attention.

The man had eyes of stone that matched his face, this wore away, completely changing his image, he looked tired and troubled.

     Julie Dunn stepped from behind Andrew, showing herself for the first time to the visitors, her nerves calmed by the sight of the boy.

'Oh my God, you poor things, are you both OK?' she asked, startled at the state of the pair of their unannounced visitors. 'Get yourself inside before you catch your deaths of cold.'

TWENTY-TWO

Marilyn could not sit back in her seat, the anticipation of reaching the town and talking to the sheriff was getting the better of her. She leant forward, quiet and still, her hands planted on the dashboard, her fingers tapping an out of tune beat. Her hefty coat made it difficult to move around inside the Jeep, but the clinging and relieving warmth that it provided was much needed.

They drove head first into the rain and wind, and terror, the motel nothing but an out of view afterthought. The path that led them blindly into uncertainty was ugly and malignant, and seemingly never-ending. The Jeep handled the tyrannical bullying, taking it all in its mammoth metallic stride, unfazed by the savagery set upon it.

The car heaters blew short blasts of hot air at their faces and feet, disturbing the uncommunicative scene with their whooshing cycle of gusts. Elwood turned them down a notch, forcing them to retire to a subdued, mellow breeze.

      Marilyn was the first to say something.

'This David O'Sullivan guy, what was he like when you spoke to him, how did he seem?' she asked with a shudder in her throat.

Elwood gazed across at Marilyn, asking her with his eyes if she really wanted to know.

'Well, uh… I knew there was something off about the guy as soon as I set eyes on him. There was something about his face, you know? It just didn't quite fit, if you know what I mean.'

Marilyn nodded.

'It's hard to explain. But if I can be honest with you, it was so nice actually seeing a face. It had been a long, long time since someone came to stay at the motel, and with the weather like it was, I couldn't exactly turn him away.'

He opened the glove box and pulled out a spare packet of smokes.

     'I invited him in, initially I was suspicious of him, like I said, his face didn't fit. But I got chatting to the guy, briefly, he was quiet, He spoke with a drawl. I didn't ask many questions and didn't get much of anything in return when I did. Come to think of it, he got defensive when I asked him if he needed help with anything, but I brushed it off, thinking he was just fed up and tired.'

'Did he look like a murderer, Elwood? I mean did he look like he could kill anyone?' she asked, without pulling any punches.

'Honestly?'

'Yeah, of course.'

'I'm afraid not. He looked like your average guy, strange, but still, just like you and me, he wouldn't really stand out in a crowd.'

He offered her a cigarette before clasping one between his dry lips. She declined.

'How long have you been at the motel, Elwood?' she asked, changing the conversation, hoping to drown the uneasiness that had swum to the pit of her stomach. She wiped at the windscreen.

'Ah, hell. I wouldn't want to bore you... But if you really want to know?'

'Yeah, that would be nice. Talking to you is very calming. Has anyone ever told you that?'

'I can't say that they have.' He laughed. 'I've been there twenty-seven years. I took it over, not by choice, may I add. You know, it's over ninety years old, owned by my father before me and his father before that.' He coughed, proudly, before taking another long drag. 'It's pretty lonely there, if I'm honest. When June died nine years ago, it was just me left to do everything, and I'm not the most organised of people. To tell you the truth, I'll be glad to see the back of it. It's just day after day of television or books, and there's only so much day time TV one person can take,' he announced with sadness in his voice. 'It's just not the same without June and Robert there, you're supposed to grow old with someone, not grow old alone, missing the people you love.' He slowed to take a corner and continued down the road, into the black.

TWENTY-THREE

'Oh my, you poor devils, come on in out of the hallway and make yourselves at home,' Mrs Dunn pleasantly demanded, with an inviting smile.

Walter and Jack moved from the spacious hallway that was subtly decorated in baby pink with a fine-lined yellow border at the top and bottom.

'That's very kind of you, Ma'am, you don't know how much we appreciate this, we didn't think we would come across anyone this far into the sticks, you're an angel,' Walter answered charmingly, bending down to slip off his shoes. 'I can't thank you enough. We thought we were almost goners,' he jabbered.

The pair took off their shoes and neatly placed them next to a full, boring, and shabby shoe rack.

     'Andrew, be a dear, will you, and get these two some towels so they can dry themselves off,' Julie asked, with the same smile pinned to her face. 'Oh, and don't be silly, enough with this 'ma'am' business, I'm Julie Dunn and that was my husband Andrew.'

She offered an introductory handshake, Walter accepted, extending his own arm, he took Julie's hand and gently shook it.

'You're most kind, Julie. This is David, my son, and I am Walter. Walter O'Sullivan. It's very nice to meet you. That storm doesn't look like it’s going to give up any time soon, I honestly can't thank you and your husband enough.’ He searched his surroundings. 'My, what a lovely home you have here, Julie.' 

'Oh, thank you, that's very kind.' She brushed a small handful of her delicate brown hair behind her ear, blushing. 'It's nice to meet you too, and you, David.' She bent down to shake his small, wet hand and afforded him a gentle, loving smile. 'Come on through.'

The trio walked silently in single file across the smooth carpeted floor, past potted plants that had their own little shelves to call home, and into the living room.

    'This is our daughter, Lizzy,' Julie introduced. 'Say hello, Lizzy.'

    Lizzy was sitting on the floor, a scowl locked on her face that started to dissipate as David walked through the door, the wrinkles in her face ironing themselves out.

She rose to her feet, straightening out the creases in her tee-shirt and patting her jeans down.

'Hello, I'm Lizzy,' she offered, still making herself presentable for her guests. 'Nice to meet you.'

     'Hello, Lizzy, my name is Walter,' he returned, bending down to her level, 'and this is my son, David. It's great to meet you.'

She blushed and turned her head to her shoulders.

Walter straightened up, his back cricking.

'Why don't you pair sit down, honestly, don't mind the sofas. My husband should be back with a towel and nice hot drinks for you both any minute now. You look exhausted,' Julie admitted.

'Thank you both, you're too kind. Come, David.'

Jack sat down on the plush grey settee, sinking deep into the warm, velvety embrace of the cushions, his feet unable to touch the floor. He watched the dancing embers of the fire, captivated by their hypnotic performance. Walter sat next to him and relaxed, leaning backwards. He crossed his leg over his opposite knee, threw a displeasing arm around Jack and drew him closer.

     Andrew came through the door, back first, a towel tossed over his shoulder and two mugs of hot drinks in his hands. He handed the towel to Jack.

'There you go, guys. You must be freezing. Dry yourselves off and warm yourselves up.'

'Thank you.'

Jack accepted the towel, starting with his face and hair, cautiously patting down his wounded head. It was still tender and sore to the touch.

Andrew took a seat next to Lizzy on the floor, put a loving arm around her and watched as the two travellers as they tended to their worn out bodies.

'So what happened to you two? Looks like you've had yourselves one hell of a night.'

Walter brought himself forward, removing his arm from around Jack, and picked up his mug, blowing the steam away.

'You can say that again.'

He laughed.

The Dunn family laughed with him.

'We had a bit of a nightmare, didn't we, David?'

Jack slowly agreed with a nod of his head.

'We kinda got caught up in the storm, I was taking David to visit his grandmother. It's my fault really,' he explained, casually, taking the first sip of his drink. 'I should have checked the forecast before setting out. Anyway, a mile or so back, my blasted car broke down. Typical. We had no idea where we were. I think we were a little bit lost, although I hate to admit that, being a man and all.' Walter chuckled, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm.

'We had to brave the weather, it was not at all pleasant, was it, David?' he asked without waiting for an answer. 'We saw a sign post and instead of following the road, I tried our luck on the path, and lo and behold, we found you. Once again, I can't express our gratitude enough. How's your head, son? Does it still hurt?' he asked, changing the subject.

Jack paused, longer than he probably should have.

'It's a lot better now, thanks… Dad,' he exclaimed, the lie falling from his mouth without so much as a hint of sarcasm,

     'That's good to hear, I'm glad.' Walter smiled and tussled Jack's hair with a heavy hand. 'Had a bit of an accident, didn't you, David? He wasn't looking where he was going and took a tumble, nothing too serious, thank God.'

The Dunns watched the father and son as colour and life allowed itself to penetrate their delicate exteriors.

Mrs Julie Dunn stood the whole time, listening intently to Walter's story of how he arrived at their house.

'You two must be starved to death!' she guessed. 'Let me make you something quick to eat.'

Walter raised his hand in gentle protest.

'That won't be necessary, honestly. We don't plan on staying long. As soon as this weather eases, we will be out of your hair and make our way into town, we don't want to put you out any more than we already have.'

'Oh, nonsense. Honestly, it's no bother, I'll rustle something up for you both,' she insisted.

Without waiting for another speech declining her offer, she left for the kitchen.