The Fall of Never(103)

“Kelly Kellow and Simple Simon,” Mouse muttered from behind her.

Kelly turned, her breath coming in great whooping gasps now. “What did you say?”

“What did you tell the Pie Man?”

“Mouse…” She looked back at the drawing on the wall, the initials: K.K. + S.S.

“What did Simple Simon do to you? You told me once.”

“Simple…?” Her voice died. Her mind was like a dam, bulging under the force of a river of memories. She could almost hear the sounds of bolts coming loose in the foundation of the dam, popping free and whizzing through the air…

“Is he still your friend?” Mouse said. “Does he still come to you, come creep-creep-creeping in your window? Does he still haunt you, Kellerella?”

“Muh-Mouse—”

Mouse tilted her head forward. She stared at Kelly from beneath the ridge of her brow. Her eyes gleamed. “I remember you, Kelly.”

“You…remember…” Her own voice sounded very far away.

“The ham,” Mouse said, breaking into a grin. “We were sneaky, weren’t we?”

“Yes. You brought ham into the room after hours. You…you hid it in your bra strap.”

“You did it.” Without looking, Mouse’s arm shot out and pointed to the drawing of the sobbing little girl on the wall behind her. “You did it, Kelly, and I kept it for you. Maybe he’d come for me one day too.”

“Who?”

“Simple Simon,” she said. “The Pie Man.”

“Why do I know that?” The dam was losing strength, the bolts popping in steady succession now. “Why do I know…?”

“You don’t remember,” said Mouse. Her eyes narrowed. “That’s why you came here.”

She didn’t understand. “I came here because of Simple Simon?” The dam—creaking…ready to burst…water seeping through…

“You came to get away.”

“What is this? How do you know this?”

“Because you told me,” Mouse said. Then: “Because you showed me. You showed me what you could do, Kelly.”

“What could I do? What did I show you?”

“Upstairs,” Mouse said, “on the third floor. You showed me on the third floor. You were scared to go because of what happened to those two girls there but it was your idea, wasn’t it? Yes. You were scared but that was the only quiet place, the only place you could show me. It felt safe then. It was where those two girls died and you used them to show me what you could do.”

You used them to show me what you could do. Mouse’s words rang in her head. Her mind was pulsing, expanding and contracting in synchronization with the force of her memories, now furious to break free.

“I can’t remember,” Kelly said. “Mouse, help me remember.”

“I can’t show you,” Mouse said. “Go upstairs and see for yourself.”

“Where?”

“The closet. Go upstairs and see the closet where the two girls died, just like you showed me that day. Go see the closet and you’ll remember what you told me, what you showed me. You’ll remember it all. Go up and see.”

For a moment, Kelly couldn’t move.

“Go up and see. Go up and see. Go up and see. Go up and see…”

As if driven by some unseen force, Kelly turned, flung open the door, and hustled down the corridor to the stairwell. A dozen eyes watched her leave.




In all its mystery, the third floor hallway stretched out before her just as she’d remembered it. Idle and silent, the faint but distinct smell of sulfur in the air, the hallway was a straight length of white track to the end. On either side of the hallway, doors to the long-vacant rooms stood shut and barred, the paint peeling off in flaky spirals and curls. Several sections of the ceiling sported large brown water stains; other places boasted gaping holes stuffed with twigs, straw and dried leaves—the nests of animals. Plaster from these holes had fallen and shattered on the floor, covering the linoleum in a sheet of powder. The light fixtures either didn’t work or were not in use; the only light issued in through the windows, casting crooked panels of sunlight against their respective walls. Dust motes floated in the air.

Here, the silence was arresting. Kelly was aware of every sound—her own breathing, heartbeat, the scuff of her heels against the floor. An enormous fly thumped stupidly against one of the milky windowpanes off to her right. Up ahead stood the abandoned nurses’ workstation, now a relic in its own time. The countertop was blistered and warped from water damage.

At the end of the hallway, facing her, was the broom closet. The door was closed, though not barred and locked like the rest. It didn’t seem real; rather, it seemed superimposed on the wall, its image a projection of her own imagination. If she went to it, reached out and touched it with her hand…would she actually feel anything? Would the door really be there? After all these years, would it be there?

She began walking toward it. Her shadow, large and distorted, followed her along the wall. The stink of sulfur intensified.

They’d come up to the third floor only twice, Mouse and her. The first time it had been Mouse’s idea. After stories about the two dead girls diffused throughout the institution, Mouse found herself unable to think of anything else. She’d been ravenous with desire to actually see the place where the girls had been found dead, to perhaps open the closet door and step inside. “You’re afraid of ghosts,” Mouse had said to her one evening. It was not a question and the authority in her voice had irritated Kelly. Wild-eyed and unsettled, Mouse had insisted they creep up to the third floor and at least look at the closet—heck, no one had to actually go inside if they didn’t want to. And despite Mouse’s affinity toward the extreme, she was the closest thing Kelly had to a friend at the hospital. If Mouse wanted to go to the third floor, Mouse was going to go…with or without Kelly. Anyway, she wasn’t terribly scared…