The Other Child (13 page)

Now everything was still. The only sound was the lapping of the current against the sparkling granite slab, washing the blood from the edge of the rock.

Leslie stood there, unmoving, letting the sound of the water soothe her. She didn’t have to worry about Gary Wilson anymore. He wouldn’t tease her again.

Go home, Leslie.
Christopher’s voice was fading now and Leslie turned from the river obediently. She didn’t want to stay here. Her place was at home.

As Leslie walked slowly, mechanically, up the path toward town, she passed a group of kids headed in the opposite direction. They were carrying towels and inflatable rafts. She stopped for a moment, disoriented. Why was she here, and why did she feel so strange? There was something she wanted to tell the children, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Her eyes hurt dreadfully and she was shaking. It was sunny, but she was so cold, she shivered. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. Why should she bother to stop and talk to them? There seemed to be something wrong with her head; it was spinning, and she couldn’t think or see clearly.

It was too late now. They were gone. She had to hurry home and not worry about what she’d forgotten. It probably wasn’t important, but getting home was. Away from this town and all the people in it. Home was where she belonged.

She was just sitting down at the table when Leslie came in. One glance at her daughter’s face told Karen there was something horribly wrong.

“Leslie! What happened?”

Leslie blinked and opened her mouth, but no words came out. She looked dazed and helpless.

“Here ..... sit down, darling!” Karen pushed her into a chair. It was like trying to seat a large rag doll. Leslie’s body slumped down into place, but there was no awareness in her eyes. She was clearly in shock, just as she had been at the birthday party.

“Are you hurt, honey?” Karen looked her over carefully; she had no visible signs of injury. Perhaps it was sunstroke. Leslie was shaking, and she was unnaturally pale.

Karen ran for a glass of water and held it to Leslie’s lips. “Drink this, baby..... That’s it, honey—just sip it slowly.”

As Karen watched anxiously, a little color came back to Leslie’s face. She looked better and Karen drew a deep breath. She should have known it was too hot for Leslie to play outside today. This was all her fault.

“Oh, no, Mom—I have to go back!” She looked wildly around her. “He’s hurt! I have to go back and help him!”

“Who? What are you saying?” Karen demanded loudly, shaking Leslie’s shoulders. “Who’s hurt, Leslie? What happened?”

Just then they heard the sirens, going down the road to the river. Karen gazed out the window. Leslie’s eyes widened and she shuddered convulsively. Now she remembered everything. Gary Wilson was hurt. He was hurt really bad!

“Gary’s hurt and I did it!” Her voice was tortured. “I did it, Mom! Maybe I even killed him!”

“What do you mean?” Karen felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest. “Tell me what happened, Leslie! Was there an accident at the river?”

“It was no accident.” Leslie’s voice was small and scared. “Gary Wilson was down at the river, swinging on that rope. It’s my fault he fell. The rope broke because I got mad at him. I wanted him to fall and he did!”

Karen put her arms around Leslie. She smoothed her hair and held the shaking girl as she tried to make some sense out of Leslie’s words.

“Gary was swinging on that rope by the riverbank,” Karen repeated carefully. “Is that right, honey?” She waited patiently until Leslie nodded. “Then he fell. Is that what happened?”

Leslie dipped her head in another small nod. “He fell on a rock, Mom! The rope broke and he fell! He’s hurt really bad! We have to go down and help him!”

“The ambulance is there by now, honey. Don’t worry, they’ll know what to do.” Karen tried to comfort her overwrought daughter. “I’m sure Gary will be all right. It couldn’t be very serious.”

“I did it.” Leslie’s voice was a whisper. “I did it, Mom. He fell on the rock because I wanted him to.”

“Leslie, listen to me.” Karen’s voice was firm. “Wanting something doesn’t make it happen. I know you were mad at Gary and maybe you wished that he’d fall, but that isn’t why he did. It’s just a coincidence, honey—an unhappy coincidence. Wishes don’t come true, you know that.”

“I guess not.” She wanted to tell her mother how her birthday wish came true and all the kids got stung. And how she had wanted to stop the ladies from gossiping and the cans fell, but she couldn’t find the words to explain. It was all so complicated—dreams, and voices, and Christopher, and the key. She had a friend, but whenever he was with her, scary things happened, and everything was out of her control. Her mother would never believe that a ghost came and talked to her and made things happen. She might think Leslie had done all those bad things to people. They’d all blame her. She couldn’t tell anyone the truth.

“Sit right here and I’ll make a call.” Karen got to her feet. “I’ll try to find out if Gary’s all right.”

“Oh . . . okay, Mom.” Leslie put her head down on the table. She heard her mother talking on the phone in the next room and closed her eyes. She felt awful. She hadn’t meant to hurt Gary. She’d just wanted him to stop teasing her—that was all.

Leslie shivered again. She knew everything was her fault even if Mom didn’t think so. She had the power to hurt people whenever she wanted—whenever she got mad. She was going to stay in the house from now on, where it was safe. And she was never going to get mad at anyone again.

“No news yet.” Marilyn Comstock sighed as she came back into the kitchen. “I’ve been on the phone all morning and no one’s heard a word from the hospital. Janet said she’d call just as soon as she got the doctor’s report, but there’s no word. Old Dr. Simmons says it was a nasty break and they were almost afraid to move him. His elbow is shattered completely and he’s positive they’ll have to do reconstructive surgery.”

“I just don’t understand that rope snapping.” Rob rubbed his forehead and pushed his half-eaten lunch to the center of the table. “The Rotary checked it just last week and I know that rope was sound. I guess we never should have allowed that swing in the first place, but no one’s ever been hurt on it before.”

Marilyn shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Rob. Nobody can blame the Rotary. Who could guess that rope would break?”

The phone rang shrilly and Marilyn rushed to answer it. Rob sighed and lit a cigarette. Marilyn’s phone was the nerve center for the entire town.

She came back to the kitchen, her lips set in a tight line. “That was Dorothy Jackson. She had her kids at the river this morning and she saw Gary swinging. She said when she got ready to leave, there were only two children left—Gary Wilson and a blond girl with a camera. She thinks it was Leslie Houston, Rob. You know, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if Leslie had something to do with Gary’s accident.”

“Leslie? How can you say that?” Rob’s voice was incredulous. “What can you mean, Marilyn? The rope broke! How could a little girl have anything to do with that? What’s gotten into you now?”

Marilyn sat down heavily. “I’m not sure,” she faltered, “but there’s some connection, Rob. Remember the hornets’ nest? Everyone got stung, except Leslie. And those cans falling on Roberta and me in the store? Leslie was right there, waiting at the checkout stand. And now this. There’s something wrong, Rob. I don’t know how she’s doing it, but Leslie Houston is at the bottom of these accidents. Nothing bad ever happened in Cold Spring before the Houstons moved in.”

“That’s ridiculous, Marilyn!” Rob couldn’t believe his ears. “Think about what you just said. Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

There was a moment of silence as Marilyn dropped her eyes. She looked embarrassed and upset and Rob reached out to pat her arm.

“It’s all right, Marilyn. You’re just too upset about Gary to think straight. Why don’t you get out of here for a while . . . go down to the store. Maybe you can help out a bit. I’m sure the Wilsons would appreciate that.”

Marilyn nodded. That’s just what she’d do. She could help mind the store and be right there when Janet called. And she wouldn’t say a word about Leslie Houston. Rob was right. The whole idea was crazy, blaming the little girl. It was a horrible accident, a broken rope, nothing more. Why, there couldn’t be a connection between Leslie and the strange occurrences lately. That sort of thinking just didn’t make any sense at all.

Doing the laundry was one of the most boring jobs in the world. Karen switched on the radio as she sorted the basket of clothes into piles: one for the whites, one for the colors, one for the delicates, one for the permanent press. It was humid and steamy hot today and she stopped to wipe her face. The weather report was just coming on.

“WCCO reports the weather on this Wednesday, the seventeenth of August, brought to you by Land O’Lakes, the best in dairy products. It’s a scorcher today, folks—a hundred and one degrees, the hottest day for this date since 1943, when the temperature reached one hundred and four. The weatherman says that old mercury is going to keep right on climbing, with a high of one hundred and five predicted for the Twin Cities and surrounding areas. There’s no relief in sight and it looks like we’re in for a record-breaking heat wave.”

Karen lifted the hair from the nape of her neck and sighed as the announcer’s voice continued.

“If you’re looking for a way to beat the heat, WCCO suggests you good folks settle down in front of your radio with your air conditioner on high and pour yourself a frosty glass of Hamm’s beer, bottled right here in the Land of Sky Blue Waters. Relax, kick off your shoes, and enjoy our own dynamic duo, Boone and Erickson.”

Karen reached out and snapped off the radio. She didn’t want to hear any more about the heat. The small laundry room was like a sauna already, and it was still early morning. By the end of the afternoon it would be miserable.

She filled the washer and started the first load, checking pockets carefully for forgotten change or ballpoint pens. The pants Mike had worn yesterday were on top of the pile and she sighed as she pulled out the checkbook. It was lucky she had checked. Karen looked at it again and swallowed hard. Her fingers shook as she opened the leather-covered folder. She was almost afraid to look. For the past week and a half, Mike had taken it with him wherever he went.

“What?” Karen’s eyes widened. Their current balance was even lower than it had been before, despite two new deposits. The number of cash withdrawals was staggering. Mike couldn’t have used all that money for supplies and overhead. Three thousand dollars in ten days! It couldn’t be. If they kept on spending money this way, they’d be absolutely penniless in no time at all. This time she was going to be firm. She had to confront Mike and demand to know exactly what he was doing with all that cash.

“Oh, no!” Karen gasped as her suspicions began to coalesce. Mike had been edgy and nervous for the last month or so, and it all tied in with a pattern she knew only too well. He had acted this way before, when they’d first met, when he was gambling heavily and losing.

Karen shivered, remembering. The day after a big loss Mike would be sullen and crabby. He’d drink too much and sink into depression. There were times when she wouldn’t see him for days. When he won, it was another story. Then he’d be on top of the world, confident and cocksure. He’d knock at her door and take them out for a big dinner, spending money lavishly on presents for Leslie and herself.

Lavish presents . . . Karen winced as another piece of the puzzle came together for her. Leslie’s telescope was lavish and so was her birthday party. The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that Mike was gambling again. And if he was gambling, he was probably drinking again, too.

“Karen? Where are you?” It was Mike’s voice, calling to her from the kitchen.

“Coming!” Karen hollered back, squaring her shoulders. It was about time they discussed this, and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. She’d demand to know why Mike was going back to his old habits. Now, with the feature and the importance of the new house, he could ruin everything.

“You left the checkbook in your pants pocket, and I want to know where all that money went.” Karen stood with her hands on her hips. “You’re gambling again, aren’t you? You gave me your solemn word you’d quit for good when I married you!”

Mike was sitting at the kitchen table. He looked up at Karen in surprise and winced. One thing he didn’t need was this kind of an assault first thing in the morning. He was worried enough as it was, and he didn’t appreciate Karen’s going at him like a prosecuting attorney.

“Now, wait a minute, honey.” Mike tried to put on a sincere smile. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not really gambling. I just got into a couple of those office pools, that’s all. It’s just small stuff—not like real gambling at all.”

“Three thousand dollars?” Karen was incredulous. “You’re trying to say that’s not really gambling? Come on, Mike—we don’t even have enough money left to make the house payment and it’s due next week. What’s going to happen to us if we lose this place? We’ll be out on the street!”

Her voice was grating on his nerves, as shrill and loud as fingernails on a blackboard. Mike winced again and shook his head.

“Please don’t shout, Karen.” He tried to be reasonable. “There’s always a grace period, so stop worrying. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous?” Karen glared at him. “You’re the one who’s being ridiculous! You’ve been gambling for months now and you hid it from me! And you’re probably drinking, too!”

“Shut up, Karen!” Mike had reached the end of his patience. He pushed his chair back so hard it clattered over on the floor. Her crack about his drinking was a low blow. If she only knew how hard it had been to stay away from it, how hard he’d been working to be a good husband, a good father to Leslie.

“I saved enough for your precious house payment, so stop screaming at me. And I’m
not
drinking! Maybe I should be. It’d make things a hell of a lot more pleasant around here, and you seem to expect it out of me. You’ve never trusted me completely, have you? You always thought I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough to quit.”

The way Karen was glaring at him made Mike even angrier. And gambling wasn’t all that bad. Businessmen gambled every day.

“You wouldn’t say a word if it was the stock market,” Mike accused. “Then you’d applaud if I made money. Be reasonable, Karen . . . I had to get the money for your fancy house from somewhere. A couple of thousand for a sofa! Nine hundred to get that old piano fixed! My gambling paid for the whole fancy birthday party and the telescope, too. Where would I get that kind of money if I didn’t gamble? You know the magazine doesn’t pay that much.”

Karen stared at him for a long moment and then she dropped her eyes. She really shouldn’t have yelled at him. She’d been making some pretty heavy demands for cash lately, and Mike was under a lot of pressure. At least he said he wasn’t drinking and that was a positive sign. She had to calm down so they could discuss this reasonably. If he’d just agree to stop gambling, they could work this out somehow.

When Karen looked up, prepared to apologize for her outburst, Mike was headed up the stairs. His shoulders were set stiffly.

“Mike—wait! Let’s talk about this. If you just stop gambling, we’ll cut down somehow. I know I’ve been spending a lot of money, but we can cut back. We can make do with cheaper things, now that I know we have a problem and—”

But he didn’t even look back. Karen gave a sigh and hot, stinging tears filled her eyes. He wasn’t going to stop. And he wouldn’t even talk to her about it. Now it was too late for her to stop him and he’d keep right on gambling with their savings, risking their beautiful house.

She heard the door of his studio slam shut and a shiver went through her in spite of the heat. It was impossible to take back the words she’d hurtled at him in anger, and now there was a wall between them, a wall Karen didn’t know how to tear down.

Karen’s hands were shaking badly and she clutched her coffee cup as if it were a life raft. Even the heat of the scalding coffee failed to take the chill from her. He had broken his promise. How could she ever trust him again?

“Damn!” Mike flung the checkbook on his desk and kicked out at the wastebasket, scattering paper and ashes wildly. She had no right to poke her nose in his business. Everything would have been fine if she hadn’t snooped around. What did she expect him to do? Create a miracle to pay the bills? Of course she was right that he shouldn’t have started gambling in the first place, but it was too late for that now. Now he was in over his head and he had to get out.

Mike laughed bitterly. And she wanted him to stop when any day he was due for a big jackpot. She had no sense of timing; she didn’t understand the rules of the game. It would be stupid to quit now, Mike knew that. He’d wait for that jackpot and then he’d quit. He’d been planning on quitting anyway, just as soon as he cashed in one more time.

There was film to develop and more prints to be made, but he didn’t dare start working when he was so upset. He needed something to calm him down so he could stop shaking.

A drink. It would serve her right if he had one. She thought he was drinking again anyway, so what difference would it make? Of course he knew he shouldn’t, but a man could only take so much, and he had to begin taking hold of his own life again. All he’d been thinking of lately was work, the house, Karen, and Leslie. He was smart enough to know when to stop now, even if she didn’t think so. A little sip of the poor man’s tranquilizer would settle his nerves and make him feel good again. It was about time to open a bottle of the Napoleon brandy and do exactly what he’d been wanting to do for days.

At first he just sipped and savored, rolling the brandy around on his tongue, not swallowing. It was superb, and the guilty feeling he was getting for yelling at Karen was melting away.

Mike found himself staring at the calendar over his desk and he groaned softly, thinking of the house payment and Karen’s concern. He didn’t have the money in savings as he’d told her, and he’d have to ask Rob for an extension. Maybe he could do Rob a favor, hand him a bottle of the Napoleon brandy before springing the request. Rob was bound to agree.

It would all work out. Mike took another sip of brandy. The little, niggling pangs of guilt were uncomfortable, but they would fade soon enough. Brandy was food for the soul.

There was a timid knock at the door, which Mike ignored. He sat down in his swivel chair and leaned back, resting his feet on his overturned wastebasket.

“Mike? Are you busy?” It was Leslie’s tentative voice. Karen must have sent her up here to check on him. Well, he wasn’t in the mood to be nice to Karen or her kid. They could knock as long as they wanted, but he’d stay right where he was, doing whatever the hell he liked. The money worries, the damn house—it could all wait until he felt like dealing with it.

Karen ignored the work to be done and climbed the stairs wearily to the master bedroom. She felt awful, and the green canopy bed looked so inviting. Mike was locked in the darkroom and she hoped he’d stay there for a good, long while. She couldn’t bear to face any more problems today. Her white embroidered maternity top was sticking to her back and it was just too hot to live. She’d lie down for a little while until she felt better.

She folded back the satin coverlet and stretched out with a sigh. She felt forlorn and uncertain of him, of their ability to create a happy family together here in this wonderful old house. A tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it away with an ironic smile, thinking that this bed had seen its share of tears. According to the diary, Dorthea had cried many times in this very spot, longing for her lover.

At first she had assumed this room to be Amelia and William’s, but to her surprise she discovered that the older Appletons had slept in separate bedrooms. This room and this bed had been Dorthea’s, her place of refuge in this lovely house. The thought comforted Karen. Life didn’t change so very much over the years. Dorthea had been just as unhappy as she was today, and perhaps life had worked out well for her. She’d know just as soon as she finished the journals.

“Mom? Are you all right?” Leslie stood in the doorway, watching her with concern.

Karen nodded. She knew she looked terrible. Her eyes felt scratchy, and they were probably red and swollen from crying. It wasn’t surprising that Leslie looked worried.

“It’s not time for the baby yet, is it, Mom?” Leslie’s voice was small and scared. “Do you want me to call Mike?”

“No, it’s not time for the baby, and you don’t have to call Mike.” Karen mustered up an ironic grin at the thought. Mike probably wouldn’t come out of his darkroom even if she went into labor this minute.

“I’m just tired, honey.” Karen reached out and squeezed Leslie’s hand. “Why don’t you go up and play with your telescope and let me nap for an hour or so.”

“Sure, Mom.” Leslie was relieved as she bent over to give her mother a kiss. She tiptoed out and closed the door softly behind her. Mom looked really tired and a nap would be good for her.

She stood in the hallway for a moment, wondering what to do. She didn’t really feel like using her telescope right now. Maybe she should take a look at the bedrooms up here. There might be some way she could help Mom with the redecorating.

Leslie opened a door at random and peeked inside. This room was going to be nice. A brass bed stood against one wall and there was an oak washstand in the corner. A sampler with a Bible verse done in cross-stitch was propped up against the mirror, ready to be hung as soon as the wallpaper was done. The room was old-fashioned and pretty and it matched the miniature perfectly.

Leslie traveled the length of the hall, opening doors and peering at the partially completed rooms. Mom had done an awful lot of work up here. No wonder she was so tired.

She stopped at the end of the hall and looked out the window. Everything was quiet and peaceful in their big yard. Sunbeams streamed in through the lace curtains and fell on the floor in patterns. The only sound in the whole house was her own soft breathing.

Leslie sighed morosely. She felt very alone with Mom napping and Mike in the darkroom. Unconsciously, she lifted her hand to touch the key lightly. At least she had one friend, even though he scared her a little. If she got really lonely, she knew Christopher would come.