Death Rhythm (17 page)

"Why? Why bring this up now? She's not hurting anything. Mrs. Stone hasn't done anything to us. She's just a lonely lady over there, like you're a lonely man over here. If anything, I think you should get together - "

"Shut up! How dare you suggest something like that!" Hector sat up straight, knocking over his can of beer. He stood, his fist, his entire arm pointing at Natalie. She stepped back. "You don't know what you're saying, Nat. You don't know what you're saying."

"I know that you've been drinking, and I know that what you're saying sounds like the most fucked up thing I've ever heard, so how dare you yell at me like that. How dare you raise your voice to me. I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm not your little Natalie anymore. So sit down! Sit down and don't dare raise your voice to me ever again!" Natalie turned around and walked out of the room. Halfway to her old bedroom, she stopped. What am I doing? she thought. What am I doing? Going to my bedroom to shut out my problems? I'm not a little girl anymore, so why is it that whenever I come back here, come back to my old house, I act just like that? Just like a little girl?

Natalie turned and walked back toward the living room, where her father sat quietly, his eyes not looking up when she came in the room.

"Dad," she said. "I'm sorry I left the room like that."

Hector ignored her.

"Dammit, look at me! Don't you start acting like a child, now. Don't you start to pout."

Hector slowly looked up.

"If there's something you want to tell me, something you want my undivided attention for, then I'll give it to you, okay? You have my full attention. Talk to me, okay? I'll listen." Natalie lifted Hector's arm from the back of the couch and slid herself underneath it, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Hector looked over at her, tears in his eyes, and squeezed her shoulder. "God, Natalie," he said. "You mean so much to me. You know that. And I didn't want to tell you any of this, but she's living
right next door
. Right next door. And I can't live with that. I can't live knowing she's there."

"Talk to me, Dad," Natalie said. She looked down at her lap, then up at her father. "I'm listening."

TWENTY-FIVE

1947

"C'mon, Ev, c'mon."

Evelyn shakes her head.

"Don't be afraid."

Something in her voice, in Edna's voice, something big and scary and hollow, like a cavern, a cave that goes back to infinity, to forever. A cave that sucks you up and in, its hot breath surrounding Evelyn.

"No!"

"C'mon, Evvy!" Something urgent in her voice. "Come
on
! They won't hurt you. They can't They're just dolls. They're my dolls, and I won't let them hurt you." Something urgent in her voice. Something strange.

Too old. Too old to be playing with dolls, Evelyn thinks. Too old. Edna's breasts are too big, her hips too curvy to be playing with dolls. She could have her own
babies
. Sixteen years old, too old for dolls.

Dolls? They're dolls. Edna's dolls.

Dolls? What's Mae doing?

She's standing there, just standing, one hand in her pocket, the other rubbing her chin.

Mae's got a vacant look in her eyes.

"Mae, I don't like this," Evelyn whines.

"Shut up!" Edna says. Mae just stands there.

"Mae," Evelyn says. "Stop it, Mae."

"Shut up!" Edna says.

No use trying to talk to Edna. No use. She can't hear. She can't hear my voice, Evelyn thinks. My voice disappears in the cave inside her head.

"Help me with this one," Edna says.

Evelyn is frightened. She's always been frightened of Edna. Edna is like a dream, a big scary dream turned up loud like the static on the radio.

"Mae!" Evelyn says one more time, trying to move Mae with her voice, shake her up to just at least blink her eyes. Just once. Please blink your eyes, Mae.

Mae just stands there. Evelyn runs away crying. Mae stands as if she's dreaming, in another world.

"Help me, goddammit!" Edna shouts. Edna hardly ever swears, so the curse has impact on Mae. She seems to snap out of it. Edna is one to listen to, one you better listen to.

"Huh?" Mae says.

"Huh?" Edna says. "Huh?" she says again, mocking. "I said help me with this one."

Mae walks over to Edna in a daze. She starts to notice it's raining. It's raining hard. She's soaked, and now she realizes it's been raining for some time now.

"Evvy just better be careful," Edna says, her breasts full grown. Too old to be playing with dolls, Evelyn thinks. And I should know - I'm too old to be playing with dolls!

Mae grabs onto the feet of Edna's doll.

"Pull," Edna says.

Mae pulls and slips in the mud.

"You're getting my doll all icky," Edna says.

Mae down on her rear end, noticing the rain for the second time, pouring down, soaking her, matting her hair, running off her face in a waterfall, carrying the mud away.

Mae gets up. Edna's laughing at her. "Clumsy!" she says. Mae doesn't laugh.

"
Help
me," Edna says again. Mae picks up the feet of Edna's doll again. They're so cold.

Colder than the rain.

"
Pull
, will ya?"

But Edna's too old, too big to be playing with dolls, Evelyn thinks. Mae stares blankly into Edna's face, seeing emptiness. She quickly looks away. The dark, moonless sky, the mud, is better to look at then the emptiness in Edna's eyes.

Mae pulls on Edna's doll. Edna leaves to get another doll. Mae pulls Edna's doll through the mud, over the grass and brush, weaving through the trees, onto the trail. It's hard work. Edna's dolls are big and heavy.

Too big, Evelyn thinks.

Big and heavy, but Mae can't stop, she'd better not stop. Drag the doll, no matter how tired you are, no matter how much your arms, your back, your legs hurt. No matter how much sweat you sweat and how much mud there is. Just pull. Pull, even if you have to detach yourself, go to sleep, lock yourself away so it doesn't hurt so much.

Then Mae hears Edna coming, hears Edna dragging another doll over the trail.

Mae keeps pulling, is just about into the yard.

Mae hears Edna yell, "We're FREE!" The children's father is gone on a trip somewhere. He takes a lot of trips.

Too many trips, Evelyn thinks. Too many trips.

And why can't I tell him? Why can't he know about the dolls? No, no, no. He'll lock-me-up and throw-away-the-key, just like Edna sings.

Lock you up - throw away the key!

Lock you up - throw away the key!

"We're free!" Edna laughs. "We're free!"

Mae drags Edna's doll up onto the back step. She lets go of the doll's feet and doesn't seem to hear the dull thud as they hit the cement step. Mae opens the back door and sees Edna emerging from the woods, dragging her doll. Mae holds the door open with her hip and grabs the feet again. Those cold feet.

"Free!" Edna screams.

Mae drops the doll through the doorway, having to stop every once in a while to re-push the door open.

"Hold the door for me, will ya, Mae?" Mae holds the door open while Edna drags in her doll.

So easy for her. Edna doesn't sweat at all. She's not even breathing heavy,
but I think I'll just lock it away, Mae thinks. Lock it all away and say this is a dream, this is my dream, and keep it where all my other dreams are.

"Should it be house or school?" Edna asks.

Edna's so big. So old.

"
House
or
School
?" Edna asks, impatient.

"House?" Mae replies.

"Okay - school it is," Edna says, her eyes gleaming, but still somehow empty, like shining a searchlight through the empty night sky. "Let's go."

Mae pulls her doll through the hall, to the top of the basement stairs. She flicks on the basement light. Her eyes are clouded. She notices the rain a third time, hearing it ping on the shingles of the roof.

Lock it all away. She doesn't have to think anymore. Become a puppet, become one of Edna's dolls. Just let the strings be pulled for a while. Let Edna have her way. It's safer that way.

Mae drags her doll slowly down the stairs, hearing its head
thunk
on each step. She hears Edna making pretend noises for the doll. "Ouch, ooch, eech, ow," Edna says each time the doll's head hits a step.

Edna waits at the top of the stairs with her doll until Mae reaches the bottom, muscles throbbing and aching in the back of her tired mind.

"Watch this," Edna says. She runs down the stairs as fast as she can without tripping, laughing as her doll's head thwacks on each step, banging in a dull, rapid rhythm. "Ouch ooch eech ow," Edna says faster.

Edna and Mae prop their dolls up in chairs. There are two other dolls already down here, each sitting in a chair, each with a blank expression. Blank, hollow stares. Edna and Mae pull the chairs into a row.

"Okay, class," Edna says. She's always the teacher. "Did you do your homework?"

Mae's lips seem to move.

"Well?" Edna says. "Speak up!"

Mae says, "Yes," her string being pulled by Edna's voice.

"Good," Edna says to the dolls. "Now first we're going to say the Pledge of Allegiance."

A loud crack of thunder rattles the bare light bulb in the basement, causing all the shadows to shake on the wall. The dolls all drip mud, but are slowly starting to dry.

Too old, Evelyn had thought.

Edna notices the worktable, her father's worktable, the one on wheels where he does his work, his undertaker's work, the one with the white sheet on it. It's empty now, and Edna goes over and rolls it in front of her class, her class of dolls. She hops on top of it, steadying herself so the wheels won't slip, and stands up, ducking her head next to the bare light bulb. Half her face glows like a crescent moon. The other half is hollow, sunken cheek and shadows. She grins and puts her right hand over her left breast.

Mae notices the rain again, hears it getting louder. The rain is odd at this time of year. It's early March. The first rain of the year. The ground is thawing already. Probably the last time they can play with Edna's dolls.

"I pledge allegiance, to the flag, of the United States of America," Edna says. "Hey -
c'mon
class!" she says, scowling at Mae, the scowl blown into a cave by the light bulb, her teeth becoming wicked stalactites and stalagmites. "Say the Pledge of Allegiance with me."

Edna starts the Pledge over, emphasizing certain words, mocking a teacher she once had. Mae joins Edna in a monotone drone.

"I pledge
allegiance
, to the
flag
, of the United States of
America
." Edna starts to speed up. " - and to the Republic forwhichitstands," she slurs the words together as if they were one. " - onenationundergoddddddd - " she pauses, letting Mae catch up to her. "WITHLIBERTYANDJUSTICEFORALL!" Edna laughs hysterically.

Mae continues droning at her own pace.

"WITH LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALLLLLLL!" Edna screams again.

" - and justice for all," Mae finishes, not knowing what she just said, not remembering, keeping it locked away.

"Amen!" Edna says.

Edna starts to dance on the table. The table with the white sheet and wheels. She does it slowly at first, getting a feel for the movement of the wheels, twisting her body around, her long, lanky arms loose, dancing like cobras at her side. She's hunched over under the ceiling, a grotesque gargoyle, as the bare light bulb throws a kaleidoscope of stark shadows across the walls of the room. Edna dances around the light bulb, ducks under it, and the shadows circle the room like ghostly carousel animals, playing on the walls, on the dolls, playing on Mae.

Thunder cracks outside.

Edna laughs and the table she's on rolls back and forth under her feet. Edna shifts her weight back and forth, laughing at the movement, delighted at the clanging racket it makes.

Mae stands still, a movie screen to Edna's shadows going round and round the room.

Edna's laughing is loud, and Mae suddenly can't help it, the strings being pulled, she starts moving her mouth and laughter pours out and it gets louder and Edna dances and Mae stands still, their laughter shrieking, turning into a tornado of sound. Their voices whip through the basement, cackles like lightening, until a third voice joins them.

Evelyn
.

At the top of the stairway, silhouetted against the upstairs light, it's Evelyn.

Too big. Too big to be playing with dolls, Evelyn thinks.

Evelyn screams, a shrill, piercing scream which only makes Edna stop, then start shrieking again, jumping from the table with the wheels, dropping to the floor on her back, pointing at Evelyn, ridiculous Evvy, wearing her stupid old field drum, the harness on her shoulders, the drum sticking out from her belly like a metal cancer.

Edna points at Evelyn. Edna kicks her legs on the floor, pointing at Evelyn, tears rolling down her cheeks as she laughs, screams hysterically.

Mae is silent again.

Evelyn lifts a stick in the air and brings it down on her drum. The bang echoes through the basement, through the house.

Edna becomes still.

Edna hits the drum again.

BAM!

Edna slowly gets up as Evelyn continues to scream.

"Aaaaaahhhhhh!" Evelyn screams, her voice a shrieking siren.

Too big, too big, too big, she thinks, but all that comes from her mouth is, "Aaaaaahhhhhh!" Her hands start moving in rapid-fire succession, the pounding of the sticks on the drum reverberating, shaking the entire house. Her hands are a blur.

Too big, too big.

And finally, suddenly - she stops. Her hands freeze in mid-motion, the last beat of the drum still ringing in the air along with her scream, "Aaaaaahhhhhh!" she screams, and then stops that, too. Her eyes are fixed on Edna.

Edna slowly gets up from the cold, gray basement floor. Her index finger trembles as she lifts it slowly in the air, pointing it at Evelyn. Her voice is a hoarse whisper.