The New Neighbor (35 page)

"Thanks to young Robby here, we think she’s trapped in her own house right now.” He stepped over to Robby's side and put an arm around his shoulders. "Unfortunately, some of your family members are in there with her. They are there of their own free will, just as many of you gave in to her of
your
own free will. But you might be able to change that. With words of encouragement to your sons and daughters and spouses, you might be able to draw them out of her house. If we
all
resist her,
reject
her, there will be nothing to keep her here. She will have no choice but to go.”
 

“Why can't we
kill
the bitch?" Mr. LaBianco asked.
 

Quillerman hesitated. “To be honest, I don’t know how to kill her.”
 

“She seduced my husband!" a woman shouted. "In just a few days, that bitch destroyed my marriage!"
 

"Please!" Quillerman said, raising his arms again. "I know you're angry and you have every reason to be, but you
must
let go of that anger. It will only weaken you. It
demeans
you, and that is precisely what she wants. She
feeds
on it. It’s important to let go of that anger and hatred. We’re all human, we are weak. We must pray to god for – “

”I don't pray," a man said coldly.
 

"Yes, I understand that some of you may not have any religious beliefs. Perhaps many of you. But you can still let go of the anger and hatred you feel toward her. You can – “

”I'm not so sure I believe what you say about her," another man said.
 

Quillerman turned to George in desperation.
 

George's mouth opened and closed as he searched frantically for something to say.
 

"Some of you probably know George Pritchard, here," Quillerman said. "He has been going through many of the same things you have." He looked at George again, nodding encouragingly.
 

George said, "My family and I ... well, like all of you, I'm sure ... we got involved with Lorelle and we became uh... my wife Karen is, um, she's over their right now, and –"
 

"I don't give a damn, Pritchard," Mr. Weyland barked. "All I want to know is how to get my daughter out of there and how to get rid of that
cunt
."
 

Quillerman sighed. "Please
listen
to yourself. That kind of attitude is what she
wants
! You must have compassion for your neighbors, think of the pain
they're
going through, too, and don't –"
 

"I'm thinking of my
husband
right now," a woman said.
 

A man shouted, "And we're thinking of our son!"
 

"I thought you wanted to help us," another man said. "You're a man of god. Wouldn't
god
want us to stop that slut?"
 

“Yeah!" Mrs. LaBianco shouted. "Christ kicked the moneychangers out of the temple, why shouldn't we kick that twat off our block?"
 

“How the hell're we supposed to do
that
?" Mr. Parker asked.
 

"Drag her out by the
hair
if we have to!" Mrs. LaBianco replied.
 

"No, no, please
listen
!" Pastor Quillerman shouted.
 

"We
are
listening," Mr. Weyland growled, "But you're not
telling
us anything!"
 

"I'm
trying
to tell you something," Quillerman said, his voice lower now, more calm than before. "I have been through the exact same thing
you're
going through! I wish someone had come along and tried to help –" His voice broke and he cleared his throat, then lowered his voice a bit. " – tried to help my family. But no one did. So I haven't had a family for many years, thanks to a creature just like the one in there," he said, pointing at Lorelle's house. "But that doesn't have to happen to
you
."
 

"It's
already
happened to us!" a woman shouted. George recognized the voice as that of Trish Mason. She and her husband lived at the end of the street with their three kids. "My husband is gone and I want to get him back before it's too late. You're not telling me
how
to get him back."
 

"He has to make that choice himself," Quillerman answered.
 

"What if we make the choice for them?" Weyland asked.
 

"Fine," Quillerman said. "Then why aren't you storming the place? Why aren't you bursting in there and rescuing those people? I think it's because deep down inside, even if you don't admit it to yourself, you're afraid of Lorelle Dupree. But I'm trying to tell you that you don't
need
to be afraid of her! You have a much greater power at your disposal. Your love for your sons and daughters and husbands and wives could bring them back to you if you'd just
let
it. But you
mustn't
give in to the dark, angry part of yourselves that she's trying so hard to bring out! She
wants
you to –"
 

“He's a madman!" a woman's voice shouted from a distance.
 

Everyone turned and shined their flashlights in that direction.
 

Lorelle stood in the same window in which Robby had seen Karen earlier. She wore a red robe open just enough to bare a narrow strip of pale flesh down the front.
 

"Don't listen to him," she said. "He's a liar. A crazy liar! He'd be in a mental hospital if he didn't have his pulpit to hide behind!"
 

"Don't listen to her!" Pastor Quillerman shouted, raising his arms high. "Wear the armor of righteousness! Fend off the arrows of evil!"
 

"Listen to his holier-than-thou talk!" Lorelle shouted at them. "Have I talked to any of you that way? Have I done anything to
any
of you? I've done
nothing
!"
 

The crowd was silent. No one responded, but looks were exchanged, brows creased.
 

“If I've done anything at all, I've given you pleasure. You know that's true, each one of you. You know in your hearts that this lunatic is lying to you. And as for your friends and loved ones who are here with me ... they are here because they
want
to be. You may not like it, but they are here by choice. " Over her shoulder: "Isn't that right?"
 

A chorus of voices rose in agreement from the darkness behind Lorelle.
 

George put his arms around Robby and Jen and said, "Go back to the house."
 

"That was Mom's voice!" Jen shouted, pulling away from him. “I heard her!” She took several steps toward Lorelle's house as she shouted, "Mom! Come home!
Please
come home! Mom?"
 

Silence. Everyone stared at the window, at Lorelle.
 

"I don't
want
to!" Karen shouted.
 

A whimper escaped Jen as she spun around and faced George. He embraced her and whispered in her ear, "Please, honey, please go back to the house now."
 

Before she could do as he had said, a frightened man's voice called, "Carl? Carl, your mom and I want you to come home now. We're sorry for what happened earlier and we'll –"
 

"
Fuck off!
" a young male voice shouted back.
 

"Marlene?" a man shouted. "Marlene? Hon? Please come out of –"
 

From behind Lorelle, a woman giggled drunkenly and the man who had called for Marlene whispered, "Oh, my God."
 

Lorelle said, "I don't care what
he
says – these people have
chosen
to be here and no matter what you do, they won't leave until they
choose
to leave. They don't
want
to come back to you right now." She paused, then: "Of course ... you could always come join us.”
 

“No!" Quillerman roared, raising a hand in the air. "If you go in there with them, you'll
all
be lost!"
 

Laughter came from Lorelle's house. When they turned toward it again, she was gone and the window was black once again ... but undefinable shapes moved in that blackness and laughter rang out now and then as if a party were going on, as if toasts were being made and jokes were being told...
 

"If they don't want to be with us," Mr. Weyland said, "why should we go in there and get them"
 

Everyone spoke at once and their voice blended into an incoherent babble, but the tone was unmistakably one of angry agreement.
 

"Wait a minute,
please
!" Pastor Quillerman shouted. "You're not
hearing
me!"
 

"We hear you fine!" someone sneered. "You're just not worth listening to!"
 

"Wait, please, aren't there any Christians here?" Quillerman asked.
 

Several voices rose affirmatively.
 

"But," Mrs. LaBianco said, "being a Christian doesn't mean I have to sit still for that woman, that-that ...
whore
in there! She doesn't have any of my family with her, but I've been married for thirty-one years and I don't take kindly to some bitch coming into my life and screwing up my marriage!"
 

"But you
allowed
her to!" Quillerman said.
 

"Yeah," a woman replied angrily, "just like my
husband
is probably
allowing
that slut to do god knows
what
with him in there right now!"
 

Quillerman spread his arms and cried, "But most of you
here
allowed her to do these things! How can you pass judgment on –"
 

A heavy black flashlight flew out of the darkness and struck Pastor Quillerman with a sharp crack across the bridge of his nose. He fell back against the pickup and released a whimpering sigh as he slid limply to the ground.
 

George and Robby knelt beside him and George shouted at the crowd, "He was just trying to
help
you! Why did you do
that
?"
 

Quillerman, stunned and bleeding, rolled his head back and forth slowly as he groaned.
 

No one responded to George's question. They simply stared at the fallen pastor, moving their flashlight beams over him as they whispered and hissed to one another conspiratorially.
 

"That's probably going to need stitches," George muttered.
 

Robby whispered, "Dad, I don't like this. I'm scared. These people are getting ... well,
mean
."
 

"I know." George looked around at them, snapping at one another and arguing. He tried to make out what they were saying.
 

" – should've listened to the pastor."
 

"I've been a Christian all my life, I don't need some lunatic telling me –"
 

" – say we just go over there and bring them out."
 

"Hey, I've got a can of Kerosene in the garage," Weyland said, "we can take it over there, empty it on her house and –
 

" – but what about all the others in the house with –"
 

"Fuck 'em if they want to be with her. What was that the old guy said? Something about wearing the armor of righteousness? Well, there's nothing righteous about anybody who
wants
to
be
with
her
!"
 

"My god," George breathed, closing his eyes. "This is insane, completely insane."
 

"Dad, what should we
do
?" Robby hissed. "Mom's in there, and these people are talking about burning the place
down
!"
 

George turned to the pastor, who was trying to sit up. He took a handkerchief from his back pocket and handed it to Quillerman, then asked, "You gonna be okay, Pastor?"
 

Quillerman nodded and waved him away with one shaky hand while pressing the handkerchief to his bleeding nose with the other.
 

George stood and looked around until he spotted Jen. She was standing in the middle of the street, staring at Lorelle's house. Quiet sobs shook her shoulders. George gripped Robby's arm and said, "I want you to get your sister, go into the house and wait there, okay?"
 

Robby nodded.
 

"Don't come out unless I call you and don't let anyone else but me into the house, got it?"
 

Another nod.
 

George patted Robby's back and the boy hurried to his sister and led her out of the street toward the house. Once they were inside, George looked around again, this time looking for nothing in particular ... except, perhaps, for something to say to them, something that might get through to them. He spotted Alana and got an idea.
 

After jumping up on the pickup's hood, George shouted. "Hey, everybody,
listen
to me."
 

Silence. Shadowed faces looked up at him.
 

"What you're thinking of doing," he said, "is wrong. I understand how you feel, but it won't work. See these people over here?" He pointed at Alana and Will. "Well, they're reporters and they've got a television camera. If you torch that house with these people inside, it'll be on videotape.
You’ll
be on videotape.”
 

Alana stepped forward and said loudly, "The camera is rolling now. We have all of this on tape. Would anyone care to comment?"