The Night Parade(78)

“Well,” David said, “I’m sorry to see you go, but who knows? Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s for the best.”

“Of course,” Burt said. “Of course it is. You should think about it yourself.”

“Maybe I will. Is Laura home now?”

“Of course.”

“Can I see her?”

A deep vertical crease formed between Burt’s eyebrows. “Huh?” he grunted.

“Can I talk to her for a second?”

“She won’t see you,” Burt said. “She won’t see anyone.”

“What about the girls? Are they here?”

Burt planted two meaty hands on his hips. “What’s this about?” he asked.

“I guess I just want to say good-bye before you all take off for the woods,” David said. He offered Burt a sheepish smile and hoped he appeared genuine. The truth was, he was suddenly terrified of what might have become of Burt Langstrom’s family. Something was wrong here. Something was off.

One of Burt’s eyebrows arched. “Is that right?”

“Just to say good-bye.”

“She won’t open the door. Not even for you, David. It’s nothing personal, of course. It’s just . . . the way things are now.”

“Then I’ll wave to her from the window,” David said, already moving past Burt and up the walk toward the front door. He knocked then turned that sheepish, bullshit smile back on.

“She won’t answer it,” Burt called, and followed him up the walk. David stepped aside and Burt opened the door and leaned his head in. He called Laura’s name while keeping a tight grip on the doorknob.

That’s so I don’t shove him aside and run into the house, David had time to think.

David heard movement from inside—a laborious, shuffling sound. When Laura appeared, she was mostly hidden in the gloom of the darkened foyer. All the blinds had been drawn over the windows. David caught a whiff of the air inside, and it smelled stagnant, like unused basements. Yet despite the gloom, David could still make her out . . . and he was instantly taken aback at how much weight she’d lost. Her face looked sallow, her cheeks sunken, her hair an unkempt mop piled atop her head. She was practically swimming in her clothes, which now looked several sizes too large for her. Without stepping any further, she said, “Burt? Who’s there with you?”

“David Arlen,” Burt said.

Laura made no comment; she only shuffled her weight from one foot to the other.

David peered over Burt’s shoulder and raised a hand toward her. “Hello, Laura. How’ve you been?”

Laura just hugged herself with frail arms.

“Wanted to wish you and the girls luck,” he added.

“It’s not safe to keep the door open so long,” she said to her husband. Then she turned around and zombie-walked back down the hallway until the deeper shadows swallowed her up.

Jesus, David thought. She might not have the Folly, but some other stressor had broken Laura Langstrom down until she was nothing more than the walking goddamn dead.

“And the girls?” David said.

Burt grimaced at him and pulled the front door closed. The door knocker thumped. “Look,” Burt said. “I appreciate your concern. I really do, David. But I think it’s time you go now.”

“All right.” David held out a hand for Burt to shake.

Burt glanced at David’s hand, nodded once, but didn’t take it. “So long, David,” he said and turned down the walkway. David watched him as he ambled around the side of the house and vanished.

David looked back up at the house. In one of the second-story windows, the two Langstrom girls were watching him from a part in the curtains. As he looked, the curtains whipped back into place, as if the children were fearful of being seen by him. Just catching a glimpse of them eased his mind considerably.

David turned and headed back down the driveway. He dragged an index finger through the layer of pollen that covered the Oldsmobile as he went.





40


The police car did not follow them; instead, it continued straight on I-70 as David negotiated the Olds off the exit ramp and onto a narrow band of blacktop.

He looked at Ellie in the passenger seat. “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

“Scared?”

“Sometimes,” she said.

“Now?”

“I gotta pee too bad to be scared right now,” she said.

He smiled then laughed. She smiled, too. It did his heart some good. “Yeah,” he said. “I gotta pee, too. We’ll stop somewhere.”

But there was no place to stop for several miles. They drove, flanked on one side by acres of cornfields while tracts of dusty flat land greeted them on the other side. For a time, the only sign of civilization were the telephone poles every quarter mile.

“Scarecrow,” Ellie said, pointing out the window. “See it?”

“Look at that.”

The thing was close to the shoulder of the road and looming several feet above the tall green stalks of corn. It was nothing more than a sackcloth head tied to a cross from which a pair of weather-faded overalls hung like the sail of a tiny ship.

“It’s silly now,” Ellie said. “There aren’t any birds for him to scare away.”