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Authors: Bryant Delafosse

The Mall (69 page)

BOOK: The Mall
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“This might turn out to be fun after all,” she said, punching me on the arm.
 
“Let’s go shopping.”

When we left the store, we were two hundred and sixteen dollars lighter.
 
Mom had contributed one hundred.
 
I added another.
 
Claudia was good enough to fork over the change.

On the way home, we didn’t need the CD’s.
 
Our plans for Halloween were all we could talk about.
 
The way Claudia was tossing around ideas, I had little doubt that she had thought about this before.

“I’ve always wanted to open up a private Spook House maze,” I confessed enthusiastically.

“It’s called a Haunt,” she corrected.
 
“If I ever designed one, mine wouldn’t be the ridiculous one-size fits all maze where lines of people are packed into narrow hallways like cattle into a chute. Those things never scared me beyond the age of five because I could always tell behind which corner the idiot in the costume would be hiding.”

I had to agree there. “Yeah, those things never work.”

“Not the way they have them set up.
 
If you want a maze to work, you have to think outside the box.
 
You have to make it interactive.”

“It’s been done, y’know.”

She gave me a look consisting of one part interested, one part leery.
 
“What? Don’t tell me you know someone who’s done it?”

“Not personally, but I heard about this millionaire guy in Austin, who throws this big private party every other Halloween at his mansion,” I told her.
 
“It’s all interactive, y’know, like Dungeons and Dragons.
 
Only thing is, you can’t buy your way in.
 
You have to be invited.
 
Some people wait in line for weeks just to get a chance.”

Her eyes went out of focus and she stared out into space.
 
Oddly enough, she started humming some familiar tune in the back of her throat.

“Yeah, getting an invite is like finding the golden ticket in a Wonka bar,” I murmured, scrutinizing her carefully.
 
Finally, I gave up trying to ignore her and asked, “Is that the bass line of ‘Don’t Fear the Reaper?’”

She picked up the string of the previous conversation, completely ignoring my question, “But for a Haunt like that to work, there has to be the threat that you could be hurt.
 
Everybody knows that in those typical Haunts those idiots with the costumes aren’t allowed to touch the customers.”

“Yeah, but now you’re edging out into actual reality.
 
If you can be hurt, then it’s no longer a game.
 
It’s life.”

“Bingo.”

“That’s hair-brained.
 
Do you have any idea what insurance for a type of operation like that would cost, if you could find anyone at all to back it, that is?”

“But see, you’re missing the point.
 
Nothing would actually happen, but they have to
believe
that it might.
 
Just like that old B-movie ‘the Shocker.’
 
The producers wired some of the theater seats up to a small electric current…”

“No way!”

“…Then started the rumor that there was a creature loose in the audience.
 
Can you imagine the buzz a movie like that would generate nowadays?”

“Hell, the lawyers wouldn’t let a producer get away with that now.”

Claudia sat in silent contemplation for a few moments before asking, “Who is this millionaire guy?”

“Oh, Folliott?
 
He’s the guy who designed that video game Oberon.
 
Not even thirty yet, he’s like one of richest people in Texas, and he’s not even in the oil business.”

“And he still does this every other Halloween?”

“No, he stopped it after 2001,” I said with melancholy in my voice.
 

“Nine-eleven ruined everything,” Claudia agreed.
***
 

When we got home, it was all I could do to keep Claudia from cracking open the boxes and start setting everything up that very evening.
 
I convinced her that it would be more prudent to start next Saturday, so we could have the whole day.
 
To my surprise, she suggested that we get together to discuss the plans on Friday night.
 
When I explained that I was playing varsity games with the band every Friday night, she threw up her hands.
 
“You over-achievers really piss me off,” she exclaimed.
 
We agreed on Thursday night, since I wasn’t scheduled to work at the grocery that week.

Mom invited Claudia to stay for dinner and let drop that she was preparing lasagna on Saturday, which happened to be Claudia’s favorite.

The atmosphere during the meal was peculiar.
 
I didn’t care for the way Mom was assessing Claudia and I, almost as if she were trying to catch us at something.
 
Dad, on the other hand, seemed his same indifferent self.

Mid-way through dinner, Claudia turned to Dad and bluntly stated: “I heard you got shot.”
 
Most people might have beat around the bush a little first, but not her.
 
“Are you okay?”

“I got grazed s’all.
 
I was lucky.”

“So how come you’re retired?
 
I mean you’re not really that old yet.”

“Claudia, I retired because the Sheriff’s Department felt I was unfit to return to duty.”

From her expression, I could tell she suddenly realized she’d touched on a sensitive subject.
 
“Well, that’s silly.
 
Why would they think that?”

The silence grew longer and longer until I thought Dad had just ignored her question.
 
Finally it was Mom who answered, “The department wouldn’t release him to go back to work.
 
So they gave him an early retirement and full disability.”

I caught Claudia’s attention and gave a short shake of my head.
 
She closed her mouth and continued to eat.
 
After a few moments of silence, though, she asked, “So, do you miss it?
 
The station stuff?”

“Honestly, I don’t.
 
Twenty-nine days out of the month it was sheer boredom.
 
It was the one day when you’ve got to bring calm from chaos that they pay you for.”
 
Dad sighed and slid his cornbread through a puddle of gravy.
 
“Maybe it’s different in the big city, but y’know, I wouldn’t have traded my job here for a more interesting one in Austin or Dallas for any amount of money.”

“You knew my father, right?” Claudia asked.

The air at the table dropped a few degrees.

It seemed that even my mother stopped chewing.
 
“We seem to be getting all the hard balls tonight,” she muttered with amusement.

A curious expression passed across my father’s face.

“He graduated the year before me,” he answered.
 
“What I mean to say is I didn’t know him well, hon.”

Claudia waited a moment for more.
 
When her patience wasn’t rewarded, she nodded and turned to Mom.
 
“Did you know him?”

Mom shook her head.
 
“Sorry, sweetie.
 
I didn’t.”

I could hear the grandfather clock marking off time in the living room.

“I should probably get going.
 
It’s getting late.”

She rose and I rose with her.

“I’ll take you back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.
 
I live the next block over.
 
If you keep this kind of behavior up, somebody will think we’re friends or something.”

I dropped back into my seat.
 
“Good point.
 
Seeya.”

She thumped my ear on the way past.
 
“Later.”
 

Claudia went around and gave Mom and Dad both hugs.
 
The moment she left the room Mom hissed, “Paul Andrew, you’re not really going to just let her walk home by herself, are you?”

I just gave her a shrug in response.
 
“Mom, Haven is single dullest place in the entire state of Texas. I think she’ll be okay.”

My Dad looked on the verge of making a comment when a look passed between my parents and not another word was spoken on the subject.

Less than a week later, when they’d found the first body in the town of Abner—a mere stone’s throw away from us—I would recall this conversation and reflect on how truly naive I had been.

 

Look for
Hallowed
the new novel from Bryant Delafosse

Coming to Amazon Kindle October 2012

BOOK: The Mall
3.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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