Skellyman Read online

  Not to worry. She was on the list in his head. He’d get around to her, sooner or later…

  Chapter 4

  He didn’t know where he was at first. And he didn’t know why. He had been floating in darkness…and then he was here.

  It freaked him out a bit. Not that he hadn’t been freaked out by most of the last year. But being dead wasn’t as bad as he’d expected it to be.

  He missed baseball most of all. He had really hoped that he might one day be a pro. Sure, he was only twelve when he…died…but he had been good for twelve. Instinctively he knew he’d been good. He’d loved nothing more than to stand on the mound and hear the crowd cheering. He missed that.

  Death wasn’t like in the movies, or what they taught at Sunday school. There was no chorus of angels or lolling around all day on big puffy clouds. And there certainly wasn’t any fire and brimstone—he had really been happy to find that out. But on the downside, if there was no Heaven, and there was no Hell, there was also no rest. There was only endless drifting around in the dark.

  But then one night he found himself on a street back in his hometown—he’d vaguely recognized some of the buildings, though it wasn’t their part of town. Well, not really on the street…not really all the way there. Just sort of misty and junk. That’s when he knew what he was, if not why he was.

  And then it was sorta cool. He drifted along the pavement, not quite touching the ground. The street might have been unfamiliar, but the car coming around the corner wasn’t. His heart rose into his throat—at least metaphorically. It was his mom. His mom and Daisy.

  He started forward, waving at Daisy excitedly. Daisy waved back. She saw him! How cool was that?

  He was about to step into the street when Daisy looked past him and pointed. She said something to Mom…and he turned to see what she was so excited about.

  But then he was in the darkness again. It was frustrating.

  There was so much he wanted to tell his mom. Not to worry about him. Not to be sad. That being dead wasn’t as bad as he’d feared it would be in those last terrible seconds…

  And he wanted to tell her the really important thing. The thing that mattered…if he could only remember what it was.

  Chapter 5

  “That prince was really dumb. If he had been paying attenshrun, he could have figured out that riddle without any help, Mama.” Daisy’s lofty pronouncement was punctuated by her jacket hitting the kitchen floor as she swept through to the refrigerator.

  “Attention, Daisy—attention.” Brenda sighed. “Pick up your coat and put it where it belongs. And haven’t you had enough to eat for one night?”

  “But I’m hungry,” the little girl whined. “Maggie ate all my popcorn.”

  “She did, did she? Then she’ll have a tummy ache to go along with her stitches. Give her to me, and I’ll try to make her feel better. It can’t feel good to have your insides coming out.”

  Daisy clutched the battered bear tighter. “She don’t want any stitches today. She feels fine.”

  “I see.” Brenda made a mental note to retrieve the bear while Daisy was at school the next day and see what could be done about the stuffing situation. “Well then, I think you should put her to bed for the night.”

  “I’m hungry!”

  “Daisy Melissa Barnett, you march right in there and get ready for bed. It’ll be hard enough for you to get up for school already. You’ve had more than enough to eat for one night.”

  Daisy stomped her foot on the floor and bellowed, “I’m hungry!”

  Before she realized she was moving, Brenda swatted Daisy’s plump little behind with the flat of her hand.

  Daisy’s face crumpled instantly from rage to hurt, tears welling in her blue eyes. “I’m hungry,” she whispered brokenly, and then began to sob.

  Brenda clapped her hands over her mouth to hold back her own scream and stared at her daughter in horror. “Oh, baby! I’m sorry.”

  Daisy wailed, inconsolable.

  Kneeling beside the crying child, Brenda hugged Daisy to her. “I’m so sorry.” She dropped a kiss on curls smelling of popcorn and bubblegum shampoo. “Want me to read you a story?”

  “Th-the Great P-Pumplekin?” Daisy hiccupped.

  “Sure, baby.”

  The little girl swiped away her tears with the back of her hand and bestowed a watery smile on Brenda. “Robbie loves that story too.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  It was only later, as she sat in the rocker in Daisy’s room, a blanket-swathed Daisy enthroned on her lap that Brenda realized the child had used the present tense about Robbie. They needed to have another of their little talks about reality. Deal with the cold, cruel facts.

  Not tonight though, she thought with a smile, closing the book. Brenda rose and laid her sleeping daughter on the bed. She should correct more of Daisy’s mispronunciations, but it was such a sweet affectation. Do I have to make the child grow up so fast?

  She should discuss it with her therapist. Elise would know if it was something to worry about.

  She pulled the cover up to Daisy’s chin and tucked Maggie in the crook of the girl’s arm.

  Daisy sighed in her sleep and cuddled the bear, shifting to her side.

  What a little angel, Brenda thought, brushing the curls off Daisy’s forehead. “Thank you, God, for leaving me Daisy,” she whispered. “I would be lost without her.”

  She flipped off the light switch. Moonlight flooded in through the sheer curtains and limned the room with silver. Brenda clicked on the rubber ducky night-light, smiling fondly at her little one. Lost indeed.

  Daisy stirred. “Down to the devil, roll the bones…” she muttered.

  No more cable for Daisy, Brenda decided. Too much talk of bones for a four-year-old.

  Brenda wandered down to her kitchen “office.” I really should pay some of the bills.

  Glancing across to the counter beside the refrigerator, Brenda saw the light on the answering machine winking like an angry red eye, accusing her of dereliction. As if it might bite her if she got too near it, she edged closer, until she could see there were three new messages on the machine.

  She bit her lip. What if it’s something important? Mom was sick last time Papa called to check up on us. I’ll never forgive myself if I miss an urgent summons…

  Taking a deep, shaky breath, she punched the button. Nothing happened.

  Then she realized she had lowered the volume, and quickly turned it up. “…jeez, Mom. If you’re gonna be a bitch about it—” She slammed a finger on the button to advance it to the next message. She’d had about all she could take from the prankster pretending to be Robbie.

  “This is Mrs. Castillo from Daisy’s school. I wanted to remind you that we will be taking a field trip on Friday to the Day of the Dead exhibit at the cultural museum. You volunteered to chaperone for us. If this is no longer convenient, please let me know at your earliest opportunity. My number is 555-4304.”

  Damn. She had forgotten about that promise. But in light of Daisy’s current fascination with the macabre, maybe it would be good to tag along and make sure she knew what was being taught to her daughter.

  The machine clicked, and the third message began. Someone breathing raggedly into the receiver. Brenda rolled her eyes. It has to be kids for sure.

  She reached to hit the erase button, and her hand stopped in mid-air. “…miss you, Brenny. I need you. Coming home soon.” Despite the hollow, guttural tone of the hurried whisper, she would know that voice anywhere. It chilled her to the core. Ethan was as dead as Robbie. Why would anyone want to torture her like this?

  She hesitated then punched the button to turn off the machine. She wouldn’t erase the tape just yet. It might be important if she ever found out who was doing this. Physical evidence might make the police more receptive if it came down to that. She popped out the mini-cassette and replaced it with a fresh tape, dropping the old one into the catch-all drawer.

  “I need a drink,” s
he sighed, then glanced around the kitchen guiltily. Talking to herself aloud was another recent development.

  She pulled a can of Coke out of the refrigerator, and the bottle of rum from the childproof cabinet that held her “bar.” Rum and cola was the only mixed drink she could ever stomach.

  She fixed the drink and took a sip. Shuddering at the taste of the alcohol, she topped it off with a little more soda. Much better.

  Drink in hand, she moved around the house, checking doors and windows to make sure they were secure. The voices on the tape frightened her, but she was ambivalent whether or not she should tell someone about them. It’s probably nothing. The police will just think I’m a crank, despite the tape. And if I tell my parents, Papa will pressure me again to move back home with Daisy. He doesn’t understand that I’m no longer a little girl who runs home to Daddy when things get rough. I’m thirty-three years old, for God’s sake.

  Brenda took another sip of her drink and squared her shoulders. She’d handle this on her own. If things got rougher…well, then she would talk to the cops. What did she have anyway? A couple of prank phone calls in the lead time for Halloween. They’d laugh her out of the station house.

  Setting her drink on the kitchen table, Brenda pulled out the accordion file of bills and her checkbook. Might as well get some things squared away while Daisy was asleep. She could drop them off at the post office tomorrow when she took her daughter to school.

  At least the house was paid for. That had been the first thing Brenda had taken care of with the insurance money. Daisy had a roof that would stay over her head. If things went too far downhill, they could sell the house and get something smaller. It was a physical nest egg that comforted Brenda a great deal.

  She switched on the stereo, letting Vivaldi flood the room with the sound of soft strings. Classical music had always been her favorite, even when her girlfriends were going gaga over the newest teen idol. She spread out the bills. There was still enough insurance money left that she could still take a little time to find a job she could live with.

  Not too bad this month, she thought, sipping her drink. She’d been trying to conserve power and—until the splurging tonight—had shied away from unnecessary expenses. Of course, with winter coming on, the heating bill would be climbing, and Daisy should go to the dentist before the end of the month if she could get her an appointment.

  Suddenly, an ear-splitting scream drowned out the Vivaldi. Brenda dropped her glass, sending a fan of brown liquid across the stack of bills.

  “Mama! Mama!”

  Brenda knocked over the chair as she stood abruptly, barking her shin on the corner of the table. “I’m coming, baby!” She sprinted to Daisy’s room.

  The little girl cowered in the corner of her bed, the coverlet clutched tightly under her chin, shrieking like a banshee. Maggie lay forgotten on the floor.

  Climbing onto the bed, Brenda gathered her trembling child into her arms. “What is it, sweetie? Bad dream?” Nightmares had been common visitors over the last year.

  “No, no, no!” Daisy insisted, shaking her head vehemently. “Not a dream. It was the skellyman. He follered us, Mama! I sawed him at the window!”

  Brenda felt her heart lurch in relief. There was no way the man could have followed them all night. It must’ve been a dream after all. Too much excitement for one day, with the pizza and movie and our earlier spat. Just to make sure, she went to the window and pulled back the sheer curtains.

  The window was securely latched, and there was no sign of anyone in the moonlit yard. “Honey, there’s no one there. Look.”

  “He wented away, but he was there. I sawed him.”

  “Baby, how could that mean old skellyman know where you live? He was on the street a long way from here, remember?”

  “I don’t know, but he was there. Go look, Mama. Go look.”

  Obviously, Daisy wasn’t going to be appeased by anything less.

  “Okay, baby. I’ll go look. You stay right here, okay?” Rummaging in the bedside table for the flashlight that was always kept there, Brenda hugged her daughter. “I made sure all the doors are locked so nothing can get you if you stay right here.” She handed Maggie to Daisy. “Maggie will protect you till I get back.”

  “Okay, Mama. Hurry.”

  Brenda kissed Daisy’s cheek and checked out the window once more. No sign of anyone in the yard, but the room did face the back of the house, and there was an undeveloped green belt to the rear of the property. She’d have to go out and look.

  Better safe than sorry.

  She stopped at the front hall closet and grabbed Robbie’s well-used baseball bat, kept there for emergencies.

  There was probably nothing to Daisy’s nightmare, but—on the heels of the phone calls—she was taking no chances. She locked the front door behind her then circled the house. No sign of an intruder as she crunched through the grass.

  Standing in front of Daisy’s window, Brenda waved at the little girl, who waved tentatively back. She trained the flashlight on the ground, and her heart froze.

  There, in the soft dirt of the flowerbed beneath the girl’s window, were two perfect footprints. And if a “skellyman” had left them, he wore a man’s running shoes. Someone had been standing outside the window looking in on her baby.

  Chapter 6

  He’d been drawn to the house like the proverbial moth…the softly lit window his flame. The Angel still slept with a night-light, though she must be nearly five now. My, my…how time flies.

  Pretty as a picture she was, with her cheeks flushed with excitement, and that ridiculous old bear cuddled tightly in the crook of her arm. She seemed to be playing some kind of a game with herself—talking animatedly to thin air—but suddenly she looked right at him…had he made a sound? And then she screamed.

  A set of lungs like an opera singer on that one. The screams cut the darkness like a knife, and he flinched away from the window. Time to retreat. The last thing he needed was to have the Bitch catch him in the backyard.

  He stepped away from the flowerbed onto the grass then turned and sprinted for the back fence, vaulting it in one smooth move and fading into the green belt. The trees were thick enough no cursory search would find him, and it was too dark for a concerted effort.

  He doubted the Bitch would even think of it. She would be too worried about her precious baby to bother searching beyond the immediate vicinity until he was long gone.

  He snaked his way deeper and deeper into the underbrush, moving quickly and quietly. There was an eerie, ghost-like quality to the way he moved. He’d cultivated it through lots of dedicated practice.

  The other side of the green belt opened onto a public park half a mile away. He strolled out of the trees nonchalantly, as if he’d just been out for a walk and stepped into the trees for a moment to relieve himself. There was no one about this time of night. The park had a curfew from 10:00 PM till dawn, but he wasn’t too concerned. The cops weren’t likely to do anything more than send a squad car through now and again, and he was an expert on dodging those.

  He stepped out of the park onto a residential street that ended in a cul-de-sac, and therefore had little traffic. Turning toward the main section of town, he jogged off in the direction of his tiny room. There was much to think about. Plans to be made. Sometime soon, the Devil would call on the Angel…

  Chapter 7

  Robbie sat cross-legged on the edge of Daisy’s bed, chin on hands as Brenda read Daisy The Great Pumpkin. It always made him smile—though he guessed he was a little old for it now…and supposed he always would be, even if he was stuck at twelve forever.

  The paradox made his brain hurt and he let it go. Instead, he winked at Daisy, and she giggled.

  She opened her mouth to say something, and he put a finger to his lips. Her eyes widened, but she nodded and clamped her lips together tightly. He gave her a thumbs up. Then he folded his hands under his chin and pretended to go to sleep.

  Daisy gave the tiniest of
nods and let her eyes drift closed.

  Brenda finished the story and put the girl to bed, kissing Daisy on the forehead. “Good night, sweetheart,” she whispered, turning off the light and leaving the room.

  As soon as she left, Daisy bounced to her knees, leaning forward eagerly. “Robbie! You’re here. How did you get here? Why aren’t you dead?”

  “I am dead, Daisy Chain—but I’ve come back.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know for sure.” He frowned. “I think I’m supposed to tell Mom something. But I haven’t gotten a chance to yet.”

  “But why did you call her on the tellmephone? She was very sad.”

  “Telephone,” he said automatically. Mom had said to correct Daisy if she mispronounced something. “I didn’t call her.” What was going on?

  “I didn’t think it was you. If you had misseded the bus, you would have walkeded home.”

  “Probably true, Squirt. So, someone called Mom and lied about being me?”

  “Uh, huh. It made Mama real sad.”

  “Well, I can’t call anybody. Put your hand up.” He held up his hand.

  Daisy giggled and held up her hand like he was.

  Robbie pushed forward with his hand, and it went right through hers.

  Daisy’s eyes grew wide as saucers. “Ooooh!” she breathed. “Are you a ghost?”

  He nodded.

  “I never met a ghost before,” she said excitedly. “Wait till I tell Mama!”

  “Don’t tell her yet…it’s a secret.”

  Daisy nodded solemnly. “Okay. I won’t.”

  Her attention shifted, and she looked past him toward the window. Suddenly, she let out a piercing scream.

  Robbie whirled, trying to see what had so disturbed his little sister—but he was back in the black, and he had missed it again. He needed to know what it was she had seen. He had a feeling it was terribly important that he did.