What the Hell Did I Just Read

9. ANOTHER CHILD GOES MISSING

It was midafternoon when Amy and I got back home. The overflowing drainage ditches had brought burbling water just twenty feet from the foundation of the dildo store. For a moment, I was thankful we were on the second floor, but if the first floor flooded we couldn’t just keep living up there and mocking the peasants drowning in the streets below us. I assumed the power would go out as wiring got submerged, plus the roads would be impassable. So, if the rain didn’t stop and the floodwater kept coming, where would we go? I guess the first option would be to stay at John’s place, but his neighborhood didn’t seem to be on much higher ground than mine and about two days under the same roof would surely mean the end of our friendship.

Amy got out of her wet clothes and collapsed on the bed as soon as we got inside. She had to be back at work at eleven. You know, to keep food on my table. I lay there with her for a while, my arm around her shoulders, her facing away from me.

“Are you … okay?”

She muttered, “As okay as is reasonable to expect a person to be after this particular day.”

She lay in silence for a bit, while I tried to think of how to phrase this next question.

I said, “The thing that was pretending to be me, my doppelganger … it didn’t, uh, hurt you, did it? It didn’t try to … assault you?”

“No. No.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“But I know you’re not telling me something.”

“I swear to god, David, that I’ve told you every piece of useful information I can remember and if I remember more I’ll tell you that, too. But no, I don’t feel like reliving every single moment of what happened today. That shouldn’t be this hard to understand.”

“It’s just … you don’t keep things from me. Ever. That’s not you.”

“I keep things from you that you don’t want to know.”

“That’s … no. Like what?”

“David, I need to sleep. When we fight, I cry, and I get this adrenaline rush and then instead of sleeping I lay here for six straight hours thinking about what we yelled at each other. Just … let me sleep.”

“I don’t want to fight. But, like, what do you keep from me? Just give me an example. What do you feel like you can’t tell me? You told me how the painkillers make you constipated, if you were comfortable sharing that—”

“I can’t tell you things that are going to send you spiraling into a depression. I mean, just what I’m saying now, I feel like that’s enough to do it.”

“I’m sorry if I give that impression. But come on, if I told you, ‘Amy, there are really important things that I withhold from you,’ you’d drive yourself crazy trying to find out what it was. There’s nothing I could say that would be worse than what you’d guess. Give me an example, that’s all.”

She sighed, rubbed her eyes, and said, “We didn’t have enough to make rent in February. I had to borrow it from John.”

I felt a black ooze of shame bubble up from a drain in my skull.

Hey, she was right!

I tried to formulate the perfect response, one that would reassure her, one that would convince her that she was being silly, that I wasn’t so fragile. Twenty minutes later, I was still trying to formulate that response and by then Amy was snoring softly, like she does. I quietly got up and closed the bedroom door.

I went to the bathroom, stood over the sink, just staring at myself in the mirror.

Then it hit me.

There is no drip.

It was still pouring outside, but the ceiling was dry. Wait, did the David doppelganger actually fix the roof?

I shuffled back through the kitchen. The breakfast plates in the sink, the syrup. I tried to picture Amy eating breakfast with a functioning copy of me, having a casual conversation with it. The junk had been cleared from the card table—the last round of crap I’d been mailed, the Rodman book and the demon marble, all of it was gone and I didn’t see it on the floor. I went to the junk room and, sure enough, the stuff had been stashed away, presumably by my doppelganger. It was now arranged neatly on a shelf right next to the one-armed concrete snowman we always kept in there.

My phone rang. It was John.

I answered, “Fuck you and all the child slaves who manufactured your phone.”

“Shit just got real. Turns out there are more.”

“More what?”

“Maggie wasn’t the only kid to go missing last night. There was at least one more.”

“Oooooh, fuck.”

“Kid belongs to a single mom, report didn’t get taken seriously by police dispatch because she sounded out of her mind. Hers got taken around the same time, they think.”

“What the hell, John?”

“I got in touch with her, name is Chastity Payton. She’s willing to talk to us.”

“Of course she is.”

“She lives at Camelot Terrace.”

“All right. You want to come pick me up?”

“I’m downstairs, in the parking lot.”

“Of course you are. Give me a minute.”

“One more thing.”

“It can’t wait thirty seconds until I come downstairs?”

“No. I was getting ready to leave, and I go to grab my keys, but I couldn’t remember where I left them. Then I said to myself, ‘Oh, I know where they are.’ You want to guess where I thought they were?”

“I’ve totally lost track of the story.”

“I was convinced my keys were in the closet, in the pitcher. I could vaguely remember sealing them in there for no reason whatsoever. It was the fuckroach, trying to get me to come let it out.”

“Holy shit, that’s weird. You can’t keep that thing at the house, it’s going to mess with your brain.”

“What else can I do with it?”

“Yeah, one of these days we should establish some kind of procedure for that. For all of this.”

“Anyway, I buried it in the backyard, we’ll see if that helps.”

I hung up and headed down. John urgently met me at the bottom stair, grabbing my arm and hustling me around the front of the building and through the entrance of the dildo store.

“What the—”

“Ted Knoll just pulled in.”

I turned and saw the red Impala slide into a parking space. I assumed he wasn’t here for a pair of edible panties. We pushed our way toward the back of the store and hid behind a shelf. Behind us was a huge wall of life-size silicone butts.

“Jesus Christ, John, he couldn’t wait one day to go on a vigilante rampage? He should be home with his daughter.”

“How long would you wait?”

I glanced back at the butts. “What are those for?”

“Dave, I can’t emphasize enough how growing up in this town has stunted your worldview.”

Ted stepped out of the car, striding through the rain and looking for an entrance to the upstairs apartment. No sign he’d seen us.

John said, “What are we going to do if he goes upstairs? Amy’s up there.”

“Yeah, we need a plan.”

“How about we just go out there and tell him the truth?”

I said, “We don’t even know what the truth is. There’s another missing kid, so for all we know he has already come across somebody’s cell phone video of me mutilating a small—”

A sales clerk walked by and John loudly said, “YES DAVID I AGREE WE SHOULD COVER OUR FLOOR IN RUBBER ASSES.”

The front door dinged and in walked Ted. The store was tiny and hiding from him was a ridiculous notion. He made eye contact and strode up to us, saying, “Why don’t y’all step outside with me.”

I said, “I’m fine right here.”

“Suit yourself.”

“And you need to think hard about what you’re about to do. About whether you really want to do it.”

“You a mind reader, now? See, I been busy. Spent all afternoon catching up, reading about you. About this town.”

“Ted, you want my advice? Move. There can’t be anything tying you down here.”

“You tellin’ me how to live my life now?”

“Think. What’s happening, Ted, is exactly what we told you to expect when this all started. Mind games. That’s all it is. They’re framing me for the crime because that’s the sort of shit They do for fun.”

“Uh-huh. You know, I started lookin’ close at my alarm system, I couldn’t get past the fact that nothing tripped it, that the cameras went dark at just the right time. I even called Littleton, the company I bought it from, they say everything looked just fine and dandy on their end. But then I talk to that detective, the one that was there this morning, and he tells me offhand that your girl works in the Littleton call center. Really interesting how you never brought that up.”

Thanks, Detective.

I said, “You’ve got to be shitting me. You think, what, I had Amy shut off your alarm? She couldn’t even do that if she wanted to.” As far as I know. “She didn’t even know about Maggie until I told her. But I’m not gonna convince you, am I? You’re not here to find the truth, you’re here to get revenge.”

“I’m here because I wanted to look you in the eye. See, in a movie, the tough guy goes on the warpath, he’s always got one thing you never get in real life—certainty. Batman stands on a roof and he sees a mugging happen down on the street, always right in front of him. Real convenient, doesn’t have to wrestle with doubt, or findin’ out he did harm to an innocent person by mistake. No, I’m not doing nothin’ until I know for sure. But I will know for sure, one way or another. And soon.”

“Then what? You kill me, you go to jail, and your little girl doesn’t have a father in her life?” I pushed past him and went out the front door. He followed. “I’m telling you, Ted—walk away. Pack up and go, and I mean tonight. For your sake. And your little girl’s. Loretta, too.”

Ted grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. He stared at me and said, “Is that a threat?”

John

Lightning flashed across the sky and John saw the rage illuminated on both men’s faces. In that moment, John was sure that one of the two—Dave or Ted—wasn’t going home alive.

John said, “Ted, you need to just calm down.”

“You keep your enormous cock out of this, John. This is between me and him.”

Dave shrugged out of Ted’s grip. His eyes narrowed in the way that they did when Dave was feeling that rage fire inside him. It was like he was trying to keep the blaze from flying out of his eye sockets and obliterating everything, Cyclops-style.

Dave gritted his teeth and said, “You’ve had a trauma, Mr. Knoll. You’re not thinking clearly. Trust me, an additional trauma won’t make it better. I don’t want to fight you, but if you want a fight, I’ll give you one.” Dave pulled his shirt over his head, exposing the torso of a badly shaved bear. “Look. You see this scar on my chest? That’s a bullet wound. You see this scar on my shoulder? That’s a knife wound—I did that one myself. See the one on my cheek? I can’t even explain that one in a way that you’d believe. I got a half dozen more I can’t show you unless we go somewhere private. I’ve been cut, I’ve been burned, I’ve been chewed on, I’ve been Tasered. So yeah, you want to fight, I’ll give you a fight. I won’t win, you’re a trained soldier and I’m a sack of guts designed to convert beer into piss and depression. But I’ll say this—nobody who’s ever fought me has ever come back for seconds.”

Lightning flashed. Ted sneered and said, “Oh yeah? Well, maybe you don’t survive this one.”

John said, “Mr. Knoll, think about what you’re accusing him of, and all you’ve seen today. You’re not accusing him of stealing your child. You’re accusing him of stealing your child using dark magic. You want to fight a kiddy diddler in a dildo store parking lot, I understand that completely, I’ve done that myself. But are you sure you want to fight a sexual deviant who is also a wizard? That’s how you wind up with a cursed asshole.”

Dave said, “Look. We just talked to the cops. Your Maggie wasn’t the only kid to go missing last night. There was at least one more and John and I are the best chance at finding them and whoever’s doing this. You want to think we’re behind it, behind all of this, that’s fine, you keep thinking it. Follow us around town if you want. But what’s happening here, it’s bigger than us. And if you think you’re going to stand in our way, then I’ve just got one thing to say to you…”

Me

“… I’m very sorry for everything you’ve been through, and all I can do is beg for your patience. Give us twenty-four hours to solve this. After that if you want to kill me, go right ahead. Not like the flags are going to fly at half-mast the next day.”

Ted worked his jaw, grunted, then turned and headed back toward his Impala, shaking his head. He stabbed his finger back toward me and said, “I’ll be watching. You can guaran-fucking-tee it.”

As he pulled away, John stepped back under the awning of the Venus Flytrap to get out of the rain. He lit a cigarette and asked, “If it comes down to you and that guy, like if he forces the issue, what will you do? I know you don’t want to kill anybody, but…”

“I don’t know, man. You’ve killed him once already, how was it?”

“Let me ask you something else. When you walked in and saw what looked like me on the couch having committed suicide, did you believe it?”

“Well, yeah. It looked completely real.”

“But in that moment, did you believe I had done it? That it was something I would do? Do you think I’m suicidal?”

“Well, no. I don’t know…”

“Why didn’t you assume that I was murdered, and it was just staged as a suicide?”

“I don’t know, I only had a few minutes to think about it. I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“If Nymph creates these doppelgangers out of your own mind, if he picks through and pulls out the things you’re most afraid of … why did you have that on the brain?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t.”

“Because you know I would never do that, right? I would never leave the job unfinished. I would never leave you guys behind. It wouldn’t even cross my mind. It wouldn’t cross Amy’s, either.”

“Great, John, good to hear. Let’s go.”

“Aren’t we waiting for Amy?”

“She’s asleep. She has work.”

“Did you ask her if she wanted to go?”

“No, she was asleep when you called.”

“Go wake her up and ask her.”

“I am not going to do that, because she’s going to be pissed off that I woke her up to go do this bullshit when she has to work a night shift. You want to do it, go right up there. But let her know it was your idea when she tells you to fuck off.”

* * *

Twenty minutes later, John, Amy, and I pulled into Camelot Terrace. Not the best trailer park in town, but not the shittiest, either. Maybe the fourth shittiest.

“The detective said she was nuts,” said John. “But who knows what that even means, in this town. I asked her how to find the trailer and she said look for the one with the sandbags.”

Amy said, “She’s a single mom?”

“Yeah, don’t know if there’s a dad in the picture somewhere.”

“That’s interesting. The Knolls were separated. Could be a pattern.”

John said, “I don’t think that’s a pattern in these crimes so much as it’s just a pattern in America in general. Also got a similar-sounding name to the other kid—Mikey.”

Amy said, “Up there.”

Chastity’s trailer was, in fact, the only one in the park with a waist-high wall of white sandbags around it. We climbed over the barrier and knocked. The door was opened by a black woman who was built like an NFL defensive lineman.

As a greeting, she said, “Oh, shit!”

John said, “Ms. Payton, my name is—”

“I know who you are, I got the Internet. Isn’t there supposed to be a third one? Little redheaded girl with glasses? Oh, there she is. Didn’t see her standin’ off to the side.”

I said, “Yeah, uh, did John explain why we’re here?”

“Come in, you look like a bunch of pissed-on toilet rats out there.”

The furniture and floor of Chastity’s living room were covered in clear plastic drop cloths, like she was expecting a bloodbath. There was a huge stuffed fish mounted on the wall.

I said, “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get sandbags?”

She shrugged. “I paid a couple of guys to put down sandbags. Did it two weeks ago, only took ’em one day. Couple of rednecks, worked like horses. Neighbors thought I was crazy. Now who’s crazy? Got a gas generator, too. Enough to keep the fridge and lights on if the grid goes down. Got bighead carp in the Deepfreeze, caught with these two hands. Well, I used a pole, you know. If you can’t do the basics for yourself, you’re a slave to the system. You want something to drink? Got milk, juice, and water, that’s it. No booze, no coffee, no soft drinks. Can’t afford addictions in my life. You gonna ask me about Mikey?”

I said, “Uh, yeah, before he went missing, did a creepy guy come around? A stranger, I mean?”

“Not that I saw. Is he a ghost?”

John said, “Why do you ask that?”

“Whoever took Mikey, he was a ghost or a ninja, and I think I would’ve still heard a ninja. I was sleeping right there on that sofa at the time, guy would’ve had to go right past me. Twice. And I’m a light sleeper. And even if this freak’s a master of stealth, even if he can float across the floor like a hummingbird, you’d think Mikey would have made a fuss all the way out the door. This is a boy who kicked a hole in the paneling by the bed because he was having a bad dream. You found that little blond girl out by the spooky old mine, right? You check around there real good to make sure no other kids were stashed nearby?”

We actually hadn’t done that, but John said, “Yeah, the cops are swarming that whole area, but they haven’t turned up anything. Not a lot of places to hide somebody, there’s those few cabins and stuff but nobody lives around there.”

“Nobody wants to. People think the devil lives down in that mine. Of course, that’s just people tellin’ stories. I always tell ’em, you want to see where the devil lives, you look in your own heart. He couldn’t have put ’em inside the mine itself?”

I said, “Oh, no, there’s tons and tons of rock sealing it off. Just making a path through it would be a major earth-moving project. Guy would need a backhoe or something. You didn’t see anything unusual? I don’t even mean that night, I mean anything at all leading up to it, even if it was months ago. Mikey never said anything strange to you, or had weird dreams?”

“No.”

“Teachers at school never reported any odd behavior?”

“I homeschool. Don’t need the government programming my boy to be a drone.”

That fact seemed significant to John, judging by his face. Before I could ask why, Chastity said, “But of course, there is the Batmantis.”

Amy said, “The what?”

“The flying monster that’s been stalking this place for the last few months? You of all people should’ve heard of that one.”

John said, “I probably have an e-mail buried in my inbox somewhere.”

Chastity asked, “You wanna see it?”

I let out an exhausted sigh and said, “Sure, why not.”

* * *

It turned out Chastity was just offering to show us a video of the monster, she didn’t have the creature tied up in her closet or anything. She took us into her bedroom and pulled out a laptop that was at least four years old but didn’t have so much as a fingerprint on it—she stored it in its original box when not in use, and it looked like she thoroughly cleaned it after each session.

She navigated to a YouTube video with only 165 views. It got off to a very slow start—it was a guy using his phone to record an attempt to train his Pomeranian to catch a Frisbee. After three attempts resulted in the plastic disc bouncing off the confused dog’s face, suddenly someone in the background screamed and the cameraman panned up to the sky.

The creature that was flapping its wings up there was just low enough to make it abundantly clear that it was not a bird. From its silhouette, it appeared to be a pair of leathery bat wings connected by a body that looked something like a praying mantis that had been in a terrible accident.

A moment after it was spotted, it swept back its wings and dive-bombed the cameraman, the moron continuing to film as the winged horror swooped down. There was a blur and a yelp and now the creature was flying back up, the cameraman’s little dog curled up in its hooked front legs. The title of the video:

BATMANTIS???

Chastity clicked back and paused the video near the middle, so we could get the clearest look at the thing as it skimmed the ground to snatch its prey. It was pure white. The wings didn’t match the body. One of its hooked front legs was much smaller than the other. The midsection was wider than the rest, as if it had a beer belly. It had a pair of big, dark eyes but the shape of its brow gave it an expression like it was confused by the world it had been born into.

“Ever see one of them before?”

John said nothing, Amy looked pale. I said, “It’s, uh, not in our database.”

“Hold on, there’s more here.”

She hit play and the video cut away, picking up in another location—the scrapyard south of town. It was nighttime, a flashlight beam bouncing between the rows of rusting abandoned vehicles. The cameraman was no longer alone; he was flanked by two men with hunting rifles.

In a harsh whisper, the cameraman said, “There! Up there!”

The BATMANTIS??? was crouched atop a stack of six flattened cars—the top vehicle was an old convertible the monster was using as a nest. Muzzle flash and thunder filled the air, the men firing at the winged beast. It flinched and flew away, in seconds becoming a pale speck in the sky.

The men approached the “nest” and the cameraman climbed up the stacked cars to peer in, presumably holding out some faint hope that he’d find his dog alive in there. He shined his flashlight into the open interior …

The beam illuminated a bowl-shaped structure, like a huge bird’s nest, filling the space where the front seats had once been. The “nest” was made of small bones, many still pink with blood and specks of remaining meat. Winding through the bones were colorful bits of rope and leather straps, speckled with shiny bits of metal here and there.

Dog collars and leashes. Dozens of them.

The cameraman screamed and the video ended. The only YouTube comment was simply:

FAKE

I heard rapid footsteps behind me and turned to see Amy was gone. From down the hallway in the direction of what was hopefully a bathroom, I could hear her retching.

Chastity said, “I guess I should have warned you guys about the content. I didn’t react too well the first time I watched it, neither.”

John said, “I know it’s weird to say this, but for some reason it’s worse when it’s a dog.”

“Not weird to say at all. A person, they can be good or bad depending on the day. A good dog, well, it just wants to make you happy, all the time. Is the little girl talking? Did she get a look at what took her?”

John started to answer, but I quickly jumped in. “She didn’t see much, but she didn’t describe getting swept up into the sky by a giant white mantis bat, either. That seems like the kind of detail even a child wouldn’t leave out.”

She said, “So, am I to understand that this here monster’s appearance and Mikey’s disappearance were totally unrelated?”

John said, “In this town? Very, very possible.” He looked at me. “We’ll need to give it a name.”

“It has a name. As far as Mikey, we’re not ruling anything out. The fact that we found Maggie safe and sound should give us optimism, if nothing else.”

Amy returned and she and Chastity started simultaneously apologizing over one another, the way women do.

Chastity said, “You didn’t tell me how much you charge.”

Amy said, “Oh, we don’t.”

“Well, you do now. Either you’re taking this job or you’re not—I don’t want some halfway bullshit where you act like you’re doin’ me a favor and congratulating yourselves for making half an effort. This is work I need done, if you take it on, I want you to treat it like work.”

I thought for a moment and said, “Our fee is two hundred and seventy-five dollars. Payable if we find him.”

Amy and John both looked at me, wondering how in the hell I’d come up with that exact number.

John said, “How much does Mikey weigh?”

“About sixty-five pounds.”

He nodded. “Yeah, two seventy five.”

Amy said, “Payable after we bring him back.”

We all stood, told Chastity we’d be in touch and, once more, we were driving through the rain.

I asked Amy if she was feeling okay. She lied yes.

We drove in silence for a bit.

Then, out of the blue, Amy looked right at me and said, “We can fix all this. I know we can. We can beat Nymph and find this other kid and we’ll be heroes. The cops will apologize and Ted will see he was wrong and everything will be okay.” She nodded, as if agreeing with the words she just heard come out of her mouth. “Yes. Everything will be okay.”

I said, “Amy, for all we know, there are already more kids missing as we speak. And just because you found Maggie in time … you know, this kind of situation doesn’t usually play out like that. Usually by the time they get to where the bad guy is holed up they just find, well, a big pile of collars.”

Amy stared out of the rain-streaked passenger window in the backseat, and then burst into tears.

I said, “What?”