Experiment in Terror 05 On Demon Wings (3 page)

cozy amount of heat. It was Saturday so my father was

working in the study, grading papers probably, and my

mother was out getting groceries. I didn’t feel like

introducing Rebecca to my father though (it would have

opened a can of worms), so we went upstairs to my room.

“Nice little room,” she said as she gazed at the posters

on the wal s. I grabbed my robe from behind the door and

told her to stay put while I had my shower. I didn’t need to

impress Rebecca but I didn’t want to smel like a dirty gym

sock either.

When I was done, feeling refreshed and more able to

handle my unexpected visitor, I emerged from the steamy

bathroom to hear a few strange squeals and giggles. I

walked down the hal to Ada’s room and pushed her door

open.

Rebecca was sitting on Ada’s fluffy bed, watching her

bring out various amounts of clothes from her closet, an

impromptu fashion show.

Ada swirled on the spot, the fringy dress she was

holding swaying with her movement.

“Hey!” she said to me with an excited grin. “I was just

showing your friend here my closet.”

I tightened my robe and leaned again the doorframe.

“Your entire closet? She’s not staying for a week, Ada.”

“Perry’s right, I just popped by to say hel o,” Rebecca put

in.

Ada placed the dress in Rebecca’s hands, who in turn

played with the silky fringes.

“Popped by to say hel o and check up on her,” Ada said

knowingly.

Rebecca and I exchanged a look. Had Ada been

listening to our conversation outside?

Ada shrugged, swung her bleached hair over her

shoulder and went back to peering at her overflowing walk-

in. “What? Rebecca’s your friend, right Perry? If I were your

friend and I heard what...” she lowered her voice

“...happened to you, I’d come check up on you too.”

“You’re not my friend?” I asked wryly.

She stuck her tongue out at me. “Only because I have to

be. Bound by blood and al that.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“So, thank you for showing me your clothes,” Rebecca

said as she got up and handed the dress back to Ada. “But

Perry and I have got some catching up to do and I real y

can’t stay long. And I am checking up on her, natural y. But I

just had to come visit her famous fashionista sister as wel .”

She sure knew the right things to say because a pink

flush appeared on the apples of Ada’s cheeks and she

waved at Rebecca bashful y. Rebecca nervous, Ada

bashful; what was going on with people today?

We went back to my room and I shut the door behind us.

I sat on the chair at my desk, feeling a little too exposed,

while Rebecca perched graceful y at the edge of my bed.

My bedroom seemed incredibly juvenile with her presence

in it.

She drummed her magenta nails across her knees.

“Your sister seems lovely.”

“She can be.”

“You told me you guys weren’t al that close, no?”

I cleared my throat, wanting Rebecca to get to the point,

why she was real y here.

“No, we weren’t. But we’re getting better.”

She got the hint and sat up straighter.

“I know you think I’m here because of ulterior motives,”

she began, “like Dex hired me to come here or something

ridiculous, but just know it’s not true. Natural y he knows I

am here, or that I was going to try and see you, but it was al

my idea. I’ve been real y worried-”

“You’ve said that. And you obviously don’t need to be.

Look at me, I’m fine.”

She nodded. “I know. You look…good.”

I could have sworn there was a slight hesitation before

“good.”

“Wel , I just got out the shower,” I protested.

“You look fine, Perry.”

Ah, downgraded from Category Good to Category Fine.

What was next? Category OK?

“I wanted to see how you were handling things.”

I opened my mouth to say something but she continued.

“Come on, we both know what Dex did was a terrible,

terrible thing. When I found out, I was livid for weeks. I knew

how he felt about you-”

The anger built up in my abdomen again and caught the

edges of my chest.

“Felt about me?”

“Yes. I mean, he didn’t mean to hurt you. He meant to

hurt himself.”

I sprang to my feet, knocking the chair backward.

“I hope he fucking did hurt himself! Look, I don’t care

about what Dex did and why he did it. OK? That’s in the

past here. We were both to blame. I shouldn’t have been so

stupid and I shouldn’t have believed for one minute that he

thought of me more as more than a friend.”

“But he does.”

“Bul shit! Friends don’t fuck each other over. Or fuck

each other and
then
fuck each other over!”

“I know, I know, but he’s a messed-up little bugger and

he made a terrible mistake.”

I took a step closer to her and wagged my finger in her

face. “Are you
defending
him? Did you think you could

come here, to my house, to my life, and start defending

him? Fuck you, too.”

She reached for my hand but I snatched it out of her way

and glared at her. She gave me a steady look.

“I am not defending him,” she said with forced calm.

“Dex is an idiot and he has his issues. I just thought you‘d

like to know that he lost the most out of this.”

My mouth dropped open and I let out a gasp.

“Let me finish!” she raised her hands. “Let me finish

before you kick my bottom. I didn’t come here to tel you

about Dex or try to make you feel sorry for him. I’m just

tel ing you the truth, even if it’s the truth you don’t want to

hear or want to believe. What happened, even though it

was his fault, destroyed him total y. He was so far gone-”

“Rebecca!” I howled at her, the madness fil ing my face

with heat. “I said I don’t care! I know Dex is stil your friend

and that’s fine, but it’s al over. The show. Whatever thing

we had going on. Even you and me. I have a new life now. I

have a new job, I have new friends and I have new dreams.

You say you were worried about me; wel al I can say is that

I’m fine. I wasn’t fine for a while there, but I am now. It’s

over. OK?”

She looked down at her immaculately manicured nails. I

was breathing hard and starting to feel faint again. I felt bad

for blowing up at her but she should have known just what

she was walking into when she showed up here.

“OK,” she said, then sighed. She looked around the

room again, avoiding my eyes. “I’l get going.”

She got up and made her way for the door. A smal part

of me wanted her to stay, to tel me more about how

miserable Dex was and about how far he’d fal en. But that

was the part of me that stil cried over love songs sung by a

bug-eyed pianist and I was pretty good at burying her

needs and wants.

She opened the door and was about to step out when I

cal ed out after her. Something had been bugging me for

the past few months, something I had no way of finding out.

She paused, her hand on the door, and looked at me

with hopeful, glittering eyes.

“What?”

“Did Dex ever say anything to you about the EVP

tapes?”

“EVP tapes?” She shook her head, her bob swinging

back and forth. “No. What are those?”

I sighed, disappointed. “We record sounds of what’s

going on around us when we do our shoots. I…I had

listened to one of the tapes and there was some pretty

important stuff on it. But Dex wouldn’t have had a chance to

listen to it until after I…left.”

“Oh. Sorry. Dex hasn’t mentioned anything about it to

me.”

I sucked on my lip and thought things over. “Do you know

who Declan O’Shea is?”

“No. Is that Dex?”

“I’m not too sure,” I said honestly. In the recording that

Creepy Clown Lady (or Pippa, as she introduced herself

as) had left, she had told me to ask my parents who Declan

O’Shea was. I did about a week after I arrived home, when I

final y calmed down enough to talk without sobbing or

punching things. I asked my father, anyway, since he has a

greater memory and he’s a lot smarter than my mom. He

seemed surprised that I asked but he said he had no idea.

Then of course he wanted to know why I was asking. I

couldn’t very wel say “wel there’s this old lady who looks

like a clown. I think she’s dead. Anyway, she said you’d

know,” so I just said I had heard the name mentioned once

and wasn’t sure if he was a friend of the family’s or not.

Regardless, Declan O’Shea was definitely
not
a friend of

the family.

“I could ask Dex for you, if you want,” she said in a smal

voice.

The thought of that made my heart race and a strange

heat creep up the back of my neck.

“No, that’s OK. I’m sure it wasn’t important anyway. You

know how ghosts are.”

“Sure…” she said uncertainly. Then she smiled. “I’m glad

you’re doing OK, Perry. I real y am. I hope we’l meet again

one day.”

I nodded absently as she gave me a short wave with her

dainty fingers and left my room. I heard her go down the

stairs and shut the front door behind her. Then the car

started up noisily and seconds later, Rebecca was gone

and out of my life again. Perhaps forever.

I sank to my knees and felt tiny prickles of moisture

stinging the corners of my eyes.

I didn’t know how I felt, but I felt…alone.

“You need a friend?” Ada asked. I looked up. She was

standing at the doorway, looking down at me with pity, or

maybe it was affection. “And not a forced friend either.”

I smiled grateful y as Ada sat down on the ground beside

me and enveloped me in a much-needed hug.

“Death! Death! It’s al about death! Satan inside, ripping

out of my skin!” screamed the eyebrow-less lead singer for

this metal band cal ed Eat the Goat or something like that.

I was standing in the far back of a gritty, jam-packed club

with Ash, watching the band perform. It was the first act of

the lineup and if it was any indication of the talent that was

to fol ow, I needed to drink a lot more beer. I was only on my

first one and it wasn’t making them sound any better.

“May I?” Ash asked me, holding out his hand for my

drink. Though Ash had handsome features and was tal ,

lanky and carried himself with an air of maturity, he was stil

only 20 and wasn’t al owed to buy any booze. So he

pilfered mine most of the time. I didn’t mind, though. He’d

been good to me so far.

“Sure,” I said, and handed him my cup, looking around

the dark venue to see if any narcs were watching. Al I saw

were headbanging bald guys in denim vests and cargo

shorts.

Ash took a big sip, relishing it with a smile. Draft beer in

plastic cups tasted
a lot
better when you were underage.

He handed it back to me considerably emptier and said,

“I thought with a name like Eat the Goat, these guys would

be hel of a lot better. They are pretty gnarly.”

“Gnarly as in good?”

“Gnarly as in terrible. Sorry for dragging you out here.”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for inviting me.

Though, I would have thought the rest of the crew would

have showed up.”

The lead singer went into a piercing wail, giving Jim

Gil ette a run for his money. I put my free hand over my ear.

“Mikeala is closing tonight,” Ash shouted over the noise,

which was somehow increasing, “and everyone else was

smart enough to stay away. You’re real y my only friend who

likes this type of music!”

I snorted. “I don’t like
thi s
type of music. I like good

music.”

We turned our attention back to the stage as the guitarist

blasted out a generic solo.

“What did you do today, anyway?” he asked

conversational y, eying my beer like a hungry dog. I took a

sip and handed it to him again.

“Not much. I went for a jog. Then ran into someone I

didn’t want to see.”

“Ooooh,” he said with wag of his eyebrows.

“She’s a girl.”

“Ooooooooh.”

“No, she has a girlfriend.”

“Triple ooooh!”

I laughed and punched Ash in his arm, causing the beer

I laughed and punched Ash in his arm, causing the beer

to spil out sideways and onto his skate shoes. He looked

down with acute disappointment, probably more for his lost

beer than his shoes.

“Wel , I guess that’s a sign to get another one,” I said,