“I try to stay healthy.” His father was a shrewd cookie and Jack was uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
“You move fast. Damn fast. Faster than any appliance repairman I’ve ever known.”
Jack coughed. “What say we have a beer or two. I’m buying.”
“Your money’s no good here. Only members can sign for drinks. So the beer’s on me.” They began to walk toward the clubhouse. His father was shaking his head. “I’ve got to say, Jack, you really surprised me today.”
Gia’s hurt and angry face popped into Jack’s mind.
“I’m full of surprises.”
8
Kusum could wait no longer. He had watched sunset come and go, hurling orange fire against the myriad empty windows of the Sunday-silent office towers. He had seen darkness creep over the city with agonizing slowness. And now, with the moon rising above the skyscrapers, night finally ruled.
Time for the Mother to take her youngling on the hunt.
It was not yet midnight, but Kusum felt it safe to let them go. Sunday night was a relatively quiet time in Manhattan; most people were home, resting in anticipation of the coming week.
The Paton woman would be taken tonight, of that he was certain. Kolabati had unwittingly cleared the way by taking the bottle of rakoshi elixir from Jack and disposing of its contents. And had not the Paton woman eaten one of the treated chocolates as she spoke to him on the phone this morning?
Tonight he would be one step closer to fulfilling the vow. He would follow the same procedures with the Paton woman as he had with her nephew and her sister. Once she was in his power, he would reveal to her the origin of the Westphalen fortune and allow her a day to reflect on her ancestor’s atrocities.
Tomorrow evening her life would be offered to Kali and she would be given over to the rakoshi.
9
Something was rotten somewhere.
Nellie had never thought one could be awakened by an odor, but this…
She lifted her head from the pillow and sniffed the air in the darkened room… a carrion odor. Warm air brushed by her. The French doors out to the balcony were ajar. She could have sworn they had been closed all day, what with the air conditioner going. But that had to be where the odor was coming from. It smelled as if some dog had unearthed a dead animal in the garden directly below the balcony.
Nellie sensed movement by the doors. No doubt the breeze on the curtains. Still…
She pulled herself up, reaching to the night table for her glasses. She found them and held them up to her eyes without bothering to fit the endpieces over her ears. Even then she wasn’t sure what she saw.
A dark shape was moving toward her as swiftly and as soundlessly as a puff of smoke in the wind. It couldn’t be real. A nightmare, a hallucination, an optical illusion—nothing so big and solid-looking could move so smoothly and silently.
But there was no illusion about the odor that became progressively worse at the shadow’s approach.
Nellie was suddenly terrified. This was no dream! She opened her mouth to scream but a cold, clammy hand sealed itself over the lower half of her face before a sound could escape.
The hand was huge, it was incredibly foul, and it was not human.
In a violent spasm of terror, she struggled against whatever held her. It was like fighting the tide. Bright colors began to explode before her eyes as she fought for air. Soon the explosions blotted out everything else. And then she saw no more.
10
Vicky was awake. She shivered under the sheet, not from cold but from the dream she had just lived through in which Mr. Grape-grabber had kidnapped Ms. Jelliroll and was trying to bake her in a pie. With her heart pounding in her throat she peered through the darkness at the night table next to the bed. Moonlight filtered through the curtains on the window to her left, enough to reveal Ms. Jelliroll and Mr. Grape-grabber resting peacefully where she had left them. Nothing to worry about. Just a dream. Anyway, didn’t the package say that Mr. Grape-grabber was Ms. Jelliroll’s “friendly rival”? And he didn’t want Ms. Jelliroll herself for his jams, just her grapes.
Still, Vicky trembled. She rolled over and clung to her mother. This was the part she liked best about staying here at Aunt Nellie and Aunt Grace’s—she got to sleep with Mommy. Back at the apartment she had her own room and had to sleep alone. When she got scared from a dream or during a storm she could always run in and huddle with Mommy, but most of the time she had to keep to her own bed.
She tried to go back to sleep but found it impossible. Visions of the tall, lanky Mr. Grape-grabber putting Ms. Jelliroll into a pot and cooking her along with her grapes kept popping into her head. Finally, she let go of her mother and turned over to face the window.
The moon was out. She wondered if it was full. She liked to look at its face. Slipping out of bed, she went to the window and parted the curtains. The moon was almost to the top of the sky, and nearly full. And there was its smiling face. It made everything so bright. Almost like daytime.
With the air conditioner on and the windows closed against the heat, all the outside sounds were blocked out. Everything was so still and quiet out there, like a picture.
She looked down at her playhouse roof, white with moonlight. It looked so small from up here on the third floor.
Something moved in the shadows below. Something tall and dark and angular, man-like yet very unman-like. It moved across the backyard with a fluid motion, a shadow among the shadows, looking like it was carrying something. And there seemed to be another of its kind waiting for it by the wall. The second one looked up and seemed to be gazing right at her with glowing yellow eyes. There was hunger in them… hunger for her.
Vicky’s blood congealed in her veins. She wanted to leap back into bed with her mother but could not move. All she could do was stand there and scream.
11
Gia awoke on her feet. There was a moment of complete disorientation during which she had no idea where she was or what she was doing. The room was dark, a child was screaming, and she could hear her own terror-filled voice shouting a garbled version of Vicky’s name.
Frantic thoughts raced through her slowly awakening mind.
Where’s Vicky… the bed’s empty... where’s Vicky? She could hear her but couldn’t see her. Where in God’s name is Vicky?
She stumbled to the switch by the door and turned on the light. The sudden glare blinded Gia for an instant, and then she saw Vicky standing by the window, still screaming. She ran over and lifted the child against her.
“It’s all right, Vicky! It’s all right!”
The screaming stopped but not the trembling. Gia held her tighter, trying to absorb Vicky’s shudders into her own body. Finally the child was calm, only an occasional sob escaping from where she had her face buried between Gia’s breasts.
Night horrors. Vicky had had them frequently during her fifth year, but only rarely since. Gia knew how to handle them: Wait until Vicky was fully awake and then talk to her quietly and reassuringly.
“Just a dream, honey. That’s all. Just a dream.”
“No! It wasn’t a dream!” Vicky lifted her tear-streaked face. “It was Mr. Grape-grabber! I saw him!”
“Just a dream, Vicky.”
“He was stealing Ms. Jelliroll!”
“No, he wasn’t. They’re both right behind you.” She turned Vicky around and faced her toward the night table. “See?”
“But he was outside by the playhouse! I saw him!”
Gia didn’t like the sound of that. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone in the backyard.