She glanced at the lightening sky, then hoisted the dead bum onto her back and headed back to the loft.
Tommy ran up the stairs and burst into the loft eager to share his discovery about Simon's illiteracy, but once through the door, he was knocked back by a stinging rotten odor like bloated roadkill.
What's she done now? he thought.
He opened the windows to air the place out and went to the bedroom, careful to open the door just wide enough to slip through without spilling sunlight on the bed. The smell was much stronger here and he gagged as he turned on the light.
Jody was lying on the bed with the electric blanket pulled up to her neck. Dried blood was crusted over her face. A wiggling wave of the willies ran up Tommy's spine, stronger than any he had felt since his father had first told him the secret of ball-park hot dogs. ("Snouts and butt holes," Dad had said, during the seventh-inning stretch. "I've got the willies," said Tommy.)
There was a note on the pillow by Jody's head. Tommy crept forward and snatched it off the pillow, then backpedaled to the door to read it.
Tommy,
Sorry I'm such a mess. It's almost dawn and I don't want to get stuck in the shower. I'll explain tonight.
Call Sears and have them deliver the largest chest freezer that they have. There's money in my backpack. I missed you last night.
Love,
Jody
Tommy backed out of the room.
Chapter 18
Bugeater of the Barbary Coast
Tommy woke up on the futon feeling as if he had been through a two-day battle. The loft was dark but for the streetlights spilling through the windows and he could hear Jody running the shower in the other room. The new freezer was humming away in the kitchen. He rolled off the futon and groaned. His muscles creaked like rusty hinges and his head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton — like a low-grade hangover — not from the few beers he had shared with the Animals after work, but from the verbal beating he had taken from the appliance salesman at Sears.
The salesman, a round hypertensive named Lloyd, who wore the last extant leisure suit on the planet (powder blue with navy piping), had begun his assault with a five-minute lament on the disappearance of double knits (as if a concerted effort by a Greenpeace team in white vinyl shoes and gold chains might bring double knits back from the brink of extinction), then segued into a half-hour lecture on the tragedies visited on those poor souls who failed to purchase extended warranties on their Kenmore Freezemasters. "And so," Lloyd concluded, "he not only lost his job, his home, and his family, but that frozen food that could have saved the children at the orphanage spoiled, all because he tried to save eighty-seven dollars."
"I'll take it," Tommy said. "I'll take the longest warranty you have."
Lloyd laid a fatherly hand on Tommy's shoulder. "You won't regret this, son. I'm not one for high pressure myself, but the guys that sell these warranties after delivery are like the Mafia — they'll call you at all hours, they'll hound you, they'll find you wherever you go and they will ruin your life if you don't give in. I once sold a microwave to a man who woke up with a horse's head in his bed."
"Please," Tommy begged, "I'll sign anything, but they have to deliver it right now. Okay?"
Lloyd pumped Tommy's hand to start the flow of cash. "Welcome to better living through frozen food."
Tommy sat up on the futon and looked at the behemoth freezer that was humming in the half-light of the kitchen. Why? he thought. Why did I buy it? Why did she want it? I didn't even ask for an explanation from her, I just blindly followed her instructions. I'm a slave, like Renfield in Dracula. How long before I start eating bugs and howling at night?
He got up and walked, in his underwear and one sock, into the bedroom; the smell of decay was strong enough to make him gag. It was the smell that had driven him to sleep on the futon in the living room rather than crawl into bed with Jody. He'd fallen asleep reading Bram Stoker's Dracula to get some perspective on the love of his life.
She's the devil, he thought, staring at the steam creeping out from under the bathroom door. "Jody, is that you?" he asked the steam. The steam just crept.
"I'm in the shower," Jody said from the shower. "Come on in."
Tommy went to the bathroom and opened the door. "Jody, we need to talk." The bathroom was thick with steam — he could barely make out the shower doors.
"Close the door; it smells in there."
Tommy moved closer to the shower. "I'm worried about the way things are going," he said.
"Did you get the freezer?"
"Yes, that's part of what I wanted to talk to you about."
"You got the biggest one they had, right?"
"Yes, and a ten-year extended-service agreement."
"And it's a chest model, not an upright?"
"Yes, dammit, but Jody, you didn't even tell me why I was buying it and I just did it. Since I met you, it's like I have no will of my own. I've been sleeping all day. I'm not doing any writing. I hardly even see daylight anymore."
"Tommy, you work midnight to eight. When do you think you would sleep?"
"Don't twist my words. I will not eat bugs for you." She's the devil, he thought.
"Will you do my back?" She slid the shower door open and Tommy was transfixed by the water cascading between her breasts. "Well?" she said, cocking a hip.
Tommy slipped out of his briefs, pulled off his sock, and stepped into the shower. "Okay, but I'm not eating any bugs."
After a mad naked dash through the bedroom they sat on the futon toweling off and looking at the new freezer.
"It certainly is large," Jody said.
"I bought a dozen TV dinners so it wouldn't look so empty."
Jody said, "You'll have to take them out; put them in the regular fridge."
"Why? I don't think they'll fit."
"I know, but I have something to put in there and I don't think you'll want your TV dinners in there with it."
"What?"
"Well, you know that bad smell in the bedroom?"
"I was going to mention that. What is it?"
"It's a body."
"You killed someone?" Tommy slid away from her on the futon.
"No, I didn't kill anyone. Let me explain."
She told him about the bum, about creeping up on him thinking he was the vampire, and of the battle that ensued.
Tommy said, "Do you think he was trying to kill you?"
"I don't think so. It's as if he wants to show me how superior he is or something. Like he's testing me."
"So you bit off his fingers?"
"I didn't know what else to do."
"What was it like?"
"Honestly?"
"Of course?"
"It was a rush. It was an incredible rush."
"Better than drinking my blood?"
"Different."
Tommy turned his back on her and began to pout. Jody moved to him and kissed his ear.
"It was a fight, Tommy. I didn't come or anything, but I swear, I felt stronger after I… after I swallowed."
"So that's why you were all crusty with blood when I got home?"
"Yes, it was almost dawn when I got the body upstairs."
"That's another thing," Tommy said. "Why did you bring that stinky thing up here?"
"The police already found one body at the motel, and they have my name. Now they find another that was killed in the same way right next to where we live. I don't think they'd understand."
"So we're going to keep it in the freezer?"
"Just until I figure out what to do with him."