The Haunting of Anna McAlister (10 page)

“Don’t worry, I got the Scotch. It’s on me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Tom smiled and drove slightly faster than necessary to Anna’s house with Jeffrey and Duncan tight on their tail in hot pursuit.

* * *

“Oh my God they are beautiful,” Duncan said as he and Jeffrey looked at the sparkling music boxes, all lined neatly in a row on Anna’s dining room table. “What magnificent pieces. How can anyone be afraid of these. They’re art.”

Anna nervously paced back and forth behind them while Tom stayed in the kitchen drinking scotch from a Kermit the Frog mug. All of Anna’s other glasses were piled into the dishwasher, which she had failed to start on any of her recent quick trips home.

Anna hadn’t known what she’d find when they all arrived at her house that day. She expected something, and was surprised that nothing looked out of the ordinary. The place was dusty and the air was a little stale from the house being closed up for days, but everything else seemed as normal as it had been the day before Anna had purchased the music boxes.
 

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Jeffrey ran his hand over the box that had a painting of the last supper on its lid. “The detail is amazing.”

Anna opened her dining room window. The fresh air rushed in, filling her lungs and embracing her body. It was only then that she realized exactly how musty and old the air had been, as if the room hadn’t been visited in hundreds of years.

“Jeffrey, look at this one.”
 

Anna heard Duncan’s voice behind her. “Exquisite.”

“You can almost smell the rose.”

Anna started to shout before she turned around. “Don’t open that box. . .”

Before she got the words out, a familiar waltz filled the room.

“Duncan, my dear. May I have this dance?” Jeffrey asked.

While he and Duncan moved to the music, Anna raced to the table and slammed shut the lid of the black music box with the red rose.

“What is your problem, girl?” Duncan snapped.

“Don’t ever touch that box,” Anna shook the hand that had closed the lid as if she were trying to rid it of something horribly unclean.

“Possessive anyone?” Duncan huffed.

“No, Duncan, you don’t understand. There’s something wrong with the boxes, particularly that black one.”

“Oh please, it’s a music box, remember?”

“Didn’t Jeffrey tell you what’s been happening in this house ever since I got them?”

“Ahh, no I didn’t,” Jeffrey admitted. “I’m afraid I forgot to mention a few eency weency details.”

“Why?”
 

“Because I didn’t want him to think you were crazy.”

“A little late for that now,” Duncan smiled. “Come on, Jeffrey. Let’s go home.”

Duncan pretended that he didn’t hear Anna or Jeffrey calling after him to stop. Jeffrey shrugged his shoulders and followed in Duncan’s footsteps.
 

It took a moment for Anna to realize that she was now standing in her dining room, in front of the music boxes, completely alone. She ran out as fast as she could, ignoring the painfully stubbed toe and banged shin she sustained along the way.
 

Anna darted into the kitchen where she found Tom sitting at the table, very, very drunk. Three quarters of the bottle of Scotch was gone and Anna didn’t have much trouble figuring out where it went.

“Anna?” Tom said loudly. “Remember when you got really bombed at the bar?”

“Yes.”

“I am too.” Tom took a swig from the bottle of Scotch and put it down next to his half full glass. “Do you know something, Anna?”

“What?”

“I don’t care. Anything.”

“I know that it’s my turn to get you home.”

“Okay, that’s good enough for me.”

Anna held out her hands to Tom. When he took them, she pulled him to his feet. Tom swayed back and forth. “I’ve been drinking, you know.”

“I know.”

“Are Fag Boy and the Butt Fucker gone?”

“Don’t call them that.”

“It’s the name of their cock & roll group.” Tom laughed, spraying out droplets of Scotch. “Besides, they might like it.”

“Well, I don’t. Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait just a minute. I got an idea.” Tom stumbled, but caught himself against the counter before it became a fall. “Why don’t we tonight play, you know pretend, that we’re both gay guys. I’ll pretend I’m the guy gay guy and you can pretend that you’re the girl gay guy, and we can fuck like little faglets all night long.”

Tom tried to grab Anna’s ass but ended up falling against the sink.

“Good try, Tom.” Anna said.

“Can we?” Tom looked hopeful.

“No.”

Tom looked lost.
 

“Come on,” Anna pulled Tom toward the hallway. She glanced at the open dining room door.
Damn it, why didn’t I close that?
she thought. “I really want to get out of here now, Tom.”

As they passed the living room, Tom stumbled again and Anna lost her grip. He fell into a sitting position on the couch.

“Oops,” he said from where he sat. “You know what I really, really want, honey?” he asked.

“I think you made that pretty clear a minute ago.”

“You mean to fuck you in the ass? Yeah, I want that. But, I also want a glass of water. I mean I really want a glass of water.”

“Tom, let’s go.”

“Your choice, Anna, a glass of water or a bop in the butt.”

Anna walked directly to the kitchen sink. She didn’t look to her left or her right. She filled Kermit’s companion cup, Ms. Piggy with water. She didn’t wait for it to get cold.
 

When she returned to the living room, Tom was sound asleep.

“No! No! NO!” Anna yelled and shook Tom. He moaned and fell over onto the couch.
 

“You son of a bitch. You fucking son of a bitch.” Anna splashed the water from the sow to the souse. It didn’t work. All it did do was turn Tom from a dry passed out person to a very wet one.

Anna felt her breaths coming in big gulps. She was sweating and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Anna started to leave, but stopped, knowing she couldn’t abandon Tom to whatever was in her house.
 

She stood completely still and held her hands out in front of her. “Okay, calm down. Just calm down.” Anna tried to talk some sense into herself.
 

“Fuck it!” Anna screamed. She ran back to the dining room and slammed the door. This time she pushed three chairs and a small book shelf against it. She then ran back to the living room hoping to find that Tom had rejoined the conscious world. Instead, his mouth was now open and he was snoring loudly enough to wake the dead.

“My hero,” Anna smirked.

* * *

It was only 2:15 in the afternoon when Anna sat on the couch. She put Tom’s wet head in her lap and clicked on her TV set. Anna sat for hours, refusing to take her eyes off the TV screen. At 10:30 that evening she still sat in place. She wouldn’t move, even to go to the bathroom. Still Tom slept. She tried many times to wake him, but couldn’t. He was breathing, but that was about it. No matter what she did, Tom’s eyes wouldn’t, or couldn’t open.

At about midnight, despite the growing pain in her back and bladder, Anna herself dozed off. At exactly 5:21 a.m., the phone rang.

Anna jumped to her feet, instantly both alert and terrified. Tom was gone.

“Tom,” she called. “Tom!” she shouted as the phone rang again and again.

“Hello,” she finally picked up the receiver. “Tom is that you?”

“No, it’s not Tom,” a crying voice said. “It’s Jeffrey.”

“Jeffrey,” Anna said. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Duncan” Jeffrey sobbed. “Duncan’s dead.”

Chapter 10

For the next five minutes Anna held the phone silently listening to Jeffrey cry. During that time, Anna closed her eyes and prayed. Anna was one of those people who had been raised Catholic but stopped going to church as soon as the decision had become hers to make. She considered herself a Christian, which she felt ran in direct conflict with many of the church’s more worldly policies. In college she had once gone to confession simply to argue with the priest about whether the Catholic Church, and other organized religious factions could be considered Christian, or spiritual, at all.
 

“The history of the church is written in blood,” Anna the sophomore had said.
 

“The blood of Jesus, the blood of saints, the blood of martyrs,” Bobby Jankevitz the priest had responded.

Both left the confessional feeling that they had proven their points.

Anna had often spoken to God in her own way since that day. Sometimes she would ask for help, or strength or patience. Sometimes she would just talk. Other times she would thank God out loud for creating a beautiful sky or a hillside blanketed by purple wild flowers.

This day, on this telephone, Anna just kept repeating to herself the Lord’s Prayer as she had learned it in catechism before her First Holy Communion.
 

Our Father who art in heaven

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come

thy will be done

on Earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

But lead us not into temptation

and deliver us from evil

now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.
 

Our Father who art in heaven

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come

thy will be done

on Earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

But lead us not into temptation

and deliver us from evil

now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.
 

“He was murdered, Anna,” Jeffrey suddenly stopped crying and spoke very clearly. It made Anna jump. “The police just left. They said he committed suicide. They said he jumped off an expressway bridge and was hit by truck.”
 

Our Father who art in Heaven . . .
 

“Duncan wouldn’t kill himself. You know he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.”

hallowed be thy name
. . .

“He just went to the store on the corner for a pack of cigarettes, that’s all. I told him not to smoke. He wouldn’t listen. You know he wouldn’t listen.”

Thy kingdom come. . .

“He was laughing when he left, calling me an old Baba for nagging him about smoking.”

thy will be done . . .

He also thought it was real funny that you were so afraid of your music boxes. He said the whole thing was just silly.”

on Earth as it is in Heaven
.
 

“Anna, he was walking to the store on the corner. It’s only a block away.”
 

Give us this day our daily bread . . .

“He died on I 696, Anna. 696 and White Plains Road. That’s at least 10 miles from here.”

and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
 

“He just wouldn’t have killed himself. Not Duncan. He was happy. We were happy. The cops are full of shit. He was killed. Someone murdered him. I know it. I can feel it.”

But lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil
. . .

“Why Duncan, Anna? Why? It’s not fair? I finally found someone? I wish it were me, Anna. I wish it were me.”

now and at the hour of our death
.
 

“Come over, Anna. Please come over. I can’t talk on the phone anymore. Goodbye.”

Amen
.

Anna held onto the phone until she heard the dial tone. Finally, she put the receiver down and screamed, “Tom!”

She screamed it again and again and again. “Tom! Tom! Tom!”

“What?” A groggy, pained and pissed off voice answered Anna’s call. Tom half stumbled down the stairs. “What is it? And please, whatever you do, please stop screaming. I have the mother fucker of all headaches.”

“Tom!” Anna screamed and ran to him, kissing him, hugging him as if her, or his life depended on it.
 

“Ouch,” Tom moaned. The scream had pierced his skull and Anna hugged so hard that it felt like his ribs were close to cracking.