I rushed out of there, but they were gone.
That was two weeks ago.
I thought I imagined it, but I’ve seen her twice more since then.
Once, on the el, in the next car, with her hand pressed to the glass.
Once, when I was walking past the cemetery, across traffic from her. Always when I can’t get to her.
But she’s always looking right at me.
And she doesn’t see an old man.
I can tell that.
She sees what I was.
What she can make me.
She’s coming for me.
I saw the moon today and it was waxing, better than three-quarters along, hanging there in the daytime like its own ghost. Jet contrails stretched a lazy A that just missed enclosing it.
It will be full by the weekend.
And Eudora will come.
I have this idea that she will ask me a question, and the question has to do with how many legs I wish to go on.
I had better figure out what I’m going to say.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I wish first to remember Elaine Koster, a formidable and unforgettable woman who was my literary agent all too briefly. Elaine’s assistant, Stephanie Lehmann, has my thanks for wading into the manuscript armed with an indifference for the horror genre and a keen eye for bullshit; she beat this novel until it had to die or get strong. Undying thanks also go to Ellen Twaddell, associate agent at the Elaine Koster Literary Agency, for fishing me out of the slush pile. Jenny Steiner Meisinger was with me through the first glimmer and the first draft, and Jennifer Rae Johnson (now Buehlman) saw it born in its current form. Danielle Dupont, an actual muse, never had any doubt; and those who know Karen already know where Dora got her eyes. I want to thank the readers who took the time to comment thoughtfully on this piece in its various forms: Ciara Carinci, Franc Auld, Michael J. E. Reilly, Chris Holcom and especially my sometime writing partner Allison Williams. Thanks to Alan Hutton and Kevin Daniels for their weapons expertise, and to Mouse, who helped me more credibly imagine what I have been lucky enough (thanks to men like him) never to have seen firsthand. Thanks to Brenda White Caballero for giving me, as the Spanish say, light. And thanks to Jack Bostick, a teacher who told his students scary stories.
About the Author
Christopher Buehlman is the winner of the 2007 Bridport Award for Poetry and the author of several plays. He lives in St. Petersburg, Florida.
Review
“One of the best first novels I’ve ever read.”
“What a treat. Terrible and beautiful. As much F. Scott Fitzgerald as Dean Koontz. A graceful, horrific read.”
“Wonderfully eerie from start to finish—a novel sure to enthrall readers of all stripes.”
“An unsettling brew of growing menace spiked with flashes of genuine terror—do not miss this chilling debut. Christopher Buehlman is a writer to watch. I look forward to hearing from him again. And soon.”
“Lures you into a different era, seduces you with eloquent prose and sensual period details, then clamps down on your jugular… An outstanding debut.”
Copyright
Published by the Penguin Group
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This is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
Copyright © 2011 by Christopher Buehlman.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions. ACE and the “A” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Buehlman, Christopher.
p. cm.
ISBN: 978-1-101-54386-3
1. World War, 1914–1918—Veterans—Fiction. 2. Plantations—Georgia—Fiction. 3. Family secrets—Fiction. 4. Memory—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3603.U3395T48 2011
813’.6—dc22
2011005232