“She’s already beautiful,” Bob said.
“I can make her more.”
“You can try.”
In the living room, when it was going down, Julie couldn’t stop looking around, couldn’t stop thinking, This is happening, wow, isn’t this a trip, Colonel Hogan himself, and she looked at the camera on its big tripod and the stack of cassettes in the corner, and she saw a leather jacket on the floor in the corner and she wondered if that was the jacket he wore on the show and wouldn’t she like to get into that, and her eyes caught her reflection on the TV screen and there she was and she saw herself and Bob Crane and she saw her eyes and they were startled. And she saw Brenda and Brenda was looking too. Brenda was staring and her dark eyes looked so big Julie thought they might swallow the screen.
They ended up in the bedroom. Bob walked behind her, putting his hand in her hair. They had sex on the bed. The buzzing in Julie’s ears was making her head hurt and the Scotch was making her dizzy. It seemed liked everything in the apartment was plugged in and running.
The room was dark and at one point it was just her and Bob and the light from the living room flashed on his face, above her. And it was that face, and she thought, it’s like getting it on with the slick cover of a TV Guid e. But it wasn’t really like that. It wasn’t like that and she couldn’t name it, but looking in his eyes, it was doing things to her. It felt like something had passed over between them. She was seeing something and it made her so sad, all of a sudden. She felt her face wet and she thought, I’m crying. I’m crying. Why am I crying?
Later she couldn’t be sure if it had happened.
After, she and Brenda went back into the living room. Brenda put her dress on and helped Julie zip her uniform back up.
They were giggling at first, and talking. It was like a slumber party, curled upon the sofa.
“I’m getting back into music,” Brenda was saying. “Steve bought me a keyboard. Maybe Bob can help me. He used to be a big deejay in L.A. He knows people in the biz.”
“Maybe,” Julie said, and she felt a little sick. She thought she should lie down.
She leaned into the corner of the sofa and Brenda kept talking, on and on, and Julie fell asleep.
“Do you hear that?”
Julie’s eyes flew open and Brenda’s face was big in front of hers, her hand grabbing Julie’s wrist.
“What?” Julie said, trying to prop herself up. “What?”
“Do you hear voices?” Brenda whispered, loudly.
Julie couldn’t hear anything.
“Someone’s trying to get into the apartment,” she said, and they both looked over at the front door. “They’re trying to break in.”
“No,” Julie said. “You had a bad dream.”
“I’m worried about my house.” Brenda jumped to her feet. “I need to get home.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. Just relax, Brenda.”
Brenda’s body was shaking and Julie stood too, head groggy, and tried to speak slowly and firmly, like you’re supposed to do when someone’s having a bad reaction to dope.
“Brenda, you’re fine. You’re fine.”
“It’s like the dream,” she said, her voice pitching up and down. “It’s like the dream.”
“See? You were just having a bad dream. Don’t be scared, Brenda.” Julie put her hand to her own head, fighting off the dizziness. That buzzing noise was back. It had been gone while she slept and now it was back and it seemed louder.
“I’m sensitive that way,” Brenda said, gravely. “When the moon is a certain way, I can get these vibrations. It’s like a whisper. When I met Bob, I had this picture. It came to me. I blacked out for a second and it was like I could see something was in his way. It was a darkness, on his bed. A darkness there on the bed with him.”
“Brenda …” Julie said, starting to feel something prickly in the back of her head, like touching a hot wire.
“And when I got here, it was like I was hearing an atmospheric disturbance in the place.”
“No. No,” Julie said, but her voice quavered. “It’s the air conditioner. It’s the equipment.
Brenda, you—”
“And now I can see it. I can see it on the wall like a shadow.” She pointed at the wall by the front door.
Julie couldn’t see anything, or thought she couldn’t. There were lots of shadows, more than she could count. The prickling in her temples was worse and worse and she felt so hot, even with the air blasting behind her.
“I know you see it,” Brenda said. Then her voice rushed up fast and she pointed at the wall. “It’s behind you, Julie. It’s behind you!”
Julie felt her heart rush up her chest and she turned around so fast she nearly fell. The minute she did, she felt silly. “Brenda,” she started, but she couldn’t make her voice calm. “Did you drop a tab? Did you drop a tab?”
“You know I don’t use that. I don’t use anything,” Brenda replied, and her eyes were so wide and she kept putting her hand to her forehead and she started pacing back and forth in front of Julie.
“There’s nothing there, Brenda. Are we … are we still sleeping?” She knew it didn’t make sense but she felt it, she felt it looking all around the room, which was like the TV screen, everything either black or white, black cassettes and equipment and the tripod and shadows and white walls and Brenda, who was standing stock-still in front of the coffee table.
Suddenly, Brenda’s hand flew to her mouth. “The thing in the corner,” she said. “The thing in the corner.”
“What thing? What thing?”
“It sees you, Julie.”
And Julie felt her heart thundering and she wanted Brenda to stop and she wanted to leave. She wanted to leave but couldn’t imagine how to make her body move to the door.
“Stop it, Brenda,” she said, her voice jangling. She wondered how Bob did not wake up.
“It’s here. It’s here. Silent. Waiting. Voices, or a rush. Julie, don’t let it see you. Don’t let it …”
Julie felt her hands dart out and cover her ears. There was the buzzing and behind the buzzing it was like there were whispers and in the whispers was Brenda’s voice, urgent and throbbing, beating like a drum. “Julie, Julie, watch out. Watch out.”
She felt her arms fling out and shove Brenda, who staggered backward and curled into herself, and Julie ran to the bedroom door and saw Bob was sleeping still and the sounds of his breathing were so peaceful. But there was Brenda behind her.
An awful feeling came to her as she watched Bob. She felt like this was something Brenda was doing to Bob. She felt like Brenda might be the dark thing.
“Don’t, Julie,” Brenda was whispering. “Don’t go in. You’ll bring it in there.”
Julie backed up and turned around and her hand swung out and cracked against Brenda’s face and Brenda’s eyes stuttered shut and open and something broke and Brenda paused and Julie stood still, her hand shaking, and the pause stretched and the hurtling look in Brenda’s eyes was gone.
“Julie,” Brenda said. And she didn’t say anything else. There was a coolness in her face, a sudden calm. And there was a knowingness to it, like she could look at Julie and see everything.
“I have to go,” Julie said. “I have to go home now. Don’t I. I have to go home now.”
Brenda stared at her and nodded.
“Do you want to come with me, Brenda? I think you should come with me.”
But Brenda gave a half-smile and turned and walked toward the bedroom. She could see the flash of white sheets as Brenda slipped into bed beside Bob, who let out a forlorn sigh.
Julie grabbed her handbag and walked over, stopping at the bedroom door. “It wasn’t me, Brenda.” She wasn’t even sure what she meant. “I didn’t bring it …” Her voice trailed off.