Slice Of Cherry (36 page)

“Quick, Gabe,” Kit said, striking a faux-frightened pose, as the corpse’s skull broke free of the earth. “Take the picture! Otherwise my children will never believe how awesome I was when I was young.” She dropped the pose when Gabriel just stood there, staring at the corpse that was using his girlfriend as an anchor to drag itself out of the ground. “Gabe?”

Gabriel looked sick, like he had come down with the flu. Ilan placed a hand on the back of his neck, holding him steady. Or keeping him from fleeing. Ilan didn’t look any better than his brother, of course. Fancy hated involving him in this, but Kit deserved an introduction to the real Gabriel.

Once the corpse was fully free, it released Kit and put its hand over the hole where its ear should have been. It only had
the one hand because its right arm was missing. “God,” said the corpse, using the air around it to make speech. “What horrible fucking music.”

“You want me to make it stop?” asked Kit, breezy as ever. “Is that your wish?”

“No, that won’t give me peace.”

“Then what will? Tell me. I’ll give you anything you want.”

The corpse turned to Gabriel and Ilan, who stood beside Fancy on the edge of the flower patch. It had no eyes, but its gaze was intense nonetheless. Intense enough to drive Gabriel back several steps. “My sons. I need them to be with me, the way I’d always intended. I don’t see why death should keep us apart.”

“What do you mean?” Kit frowned. “I can’t bring you back from the dead. Nobody escapes death.”

“But you can bring them to me,” said the corpse. “Especially the one who killed me. It’s only fair.”

“Who killed you?”

“My son.” But the corpse didn’t point his lone, bony arm at Gabriel, as Fancy expected.

He pointed at Ilan.

K
IT AND
M
ADDA AND ME THREW A PARTY FOR
D
ADDY’S VICTIMS DOWN IN THE CELLAR BUT ONLY ONE OF THE GUESTS SHOWED UP AND HE WAS KIND OF A JERK.
H
E SAID IT WAS TOO COLD IN THE CELLAR AND THE MUSIC WAS TOO SLOW TO DANCE TO AND WHY HAD WE USED
C
HRISTMAS DECORATIONS WHEN IT WASN’T EVEN
C
HRISTMAS AND HE WAS REAL MAD CUZ THERE WASN’T ANY FOOD.
E
VEN AFTER
I
POINTED OUT THAT HE WAS DEAD AND DIDN’T NEED TO EAT, HE STILL WOULDN’T LET IT GO SO WE KICKED HIM OUT AND LOCKED THE DOORS AGAINST HIM.

“No.” Fancy darted forward and slapped the corpse’s pointing finger so hard one of the knuckles snapped off. “Don’t point at him.
Gabriel
killed you. Not Ilan.”

“Mr. Turner?”
said Kit, her face almost blank with confusion. “Wait a minute. Daddy killed Mr. Turner,” she told Fancy. “Everybody knows that.”

“Guthrie didn’t want to kill me. He wanted to kill my son. My Gabe.” Mr. Turner stretched his hand to Gabriel, imploringly.

Gabriel looked at the broken, skeletal hand as though it were a spitting cobra and shoved his hands into his pockets.

Mr. Turner lowered his hand and said, heavily, “I had hoped
he’d go back for you so we could finally be together, but—”

“Don’t talk to him!” Ilan stepped between his father and Gabriel.

“Ilan.” Fancy caught his eye, but only briefly; he couldn’t hold her gaze. “
You
killed Mr. Turner?”

“Ilan was always jealous of his brother,” said Mr. Turner, “the attention I gave him. He used to poison my Gabe. Did you know that? Even pushed the poor boy down the stairs once. But I forgive him.”

“You forgive
me
?” Ilan yelled.

“Jealousy is just a sign of devotion. I understood that, even then.”

Ilan launched himself at Mr. Turner, who grabbed him and held him so tight Fancy heard the creaking of bones—whether Mr. Turner’s or Ilan’s, though, she couldn’t say.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” Mr. Turner hissed into Ilan’s ear. “I know you’ll make it up to me.”

“Let him go!” Fancy tried to pull Ilan free, but Mr. Turner’s bony grip would not loosen.

Kit pulled Fancy out of the way and spoke to Mr. Turner. “If Ilan’s the one who killed you, why do you want Gabe, too? He didn’t do anything.”

“You said I could have anything.” The darkness in his voice stood Fancy’s hair on end. “You promised.”

“Well, I take it back!” Kit shouted, unaffected by Mr. Turner’s voice. “There’s no way I’m—”

Mr. Turner let go of Ilan and shoved Kit to the ground by her face. He knelt on her, his knees in her belly, and put his hand over her heart, over that empty space that was not as empty as she’d thought. She was full of life, and Mr. Turner was sucking it out of her.

“No!” Fancy screamed, watching her sister decay, shriveling and cracking like a mummy, like something that had crawled out of the ground with Mr. Turner. Fancy fell on him and dislocated several of his ribs, but she couldn’t pull him off her sister. Gabriel and Ilan tried to help, shoving and pulling at their father, but he wouldn’t budge. He didn’t have to budge. Kit had broken her promise.

“Kit,” Fancy said. “Quick! Take back what you said.”

“No.” It was just a small croak from her dried lips. Small, but decisive. She’d obviously lost her mind and didn’t know what she was saying.

For the first time in her life Fancy would have to speak for her.

“Leave her alone!” Gabriel cried, dropping to his knees
beside his father. “Please. Kit’s the only one here who’s really innocent—she didn’t know the truth!”

Despite the dire situation Fancy couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Gabriel’s use of “Kit” and “innocent” in the same sentence. Fancy shoved Gabriel out of Mr. Turner’s reach.

“He’s not gone kill Kit,” Fancy said, calm and in control. Maybe Mr. Turner was sucking the life from Kit, but
she
wasn’t what he was hungry for. “If he does, he won’t get what he wants.” She stared into Mr. Turner’s empty eye sockets. “
I
take back what Kit said.”

That got everyone’s attention.

“Me and her are practically the same person,” Fancy continued. “So this time I’ll speak for her. If you fix what you’ve done to her, you can have your sons.”

“What?”

Fancy held up a hand to silence Ilan, but continued speaking to Mr. Turner. “You can take them far from here, far from this horrible music. You can—” She gave Ilan a quick look. “You can take them to paradise, and Ilan can introduce you to the cute little dogs that live there.”

The look of outrage on Ilan’s face was replaced with understanding.

Mr. Turner heaved himself off Kit and stood. Ilan put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, and Fancy heard him whisper, “I’ll take care of you. I always have.”

Before Gabriel could say anything, Mr. Turner slung his arm around both their necks and pressed their faces to his splintered ribs.

“I’ve wanted so long to hold you both,” he said, and then turned his skull in Fancy’s direction. “Now, keep your word.”

Fancy shot an embarrassed look at Ilan, relieved that his face was smashed against his father’s ribs and he couldn’t see her removing bubble solution from her purse. She blew a bubble so big that all three Turners fit inside it. There were no gory Annas in the bubble with them. Only the stone platform ringed with the headless statues.

Mr. Turner was no longer a corpse, but was as fully alive and real as Franken’s girlfriend had become after Kit had sent her to the happy place. Though he was still missing his right arm, he was tall and handsome and strong and dressed in the suit he’d been buried in.

When she stopped blowing, the bubble popped, and the Turners disappeared.

“Fancy?”

Kit groaned behind her, no longer shriveled and horrible, but groggy as she sat up. “Where’s everybody? Where’s Gabe?”

“I let Mr. Turner take him. Both of them.”

Her grogginess cleared up instantly. “How could you let that happen?”

“Don’t worry. They’re just in the happy place.”

Kit noticed the bubble solution. “Show me Gabe. Quick!”

Fancy tried, but the bubbles she blew were all black. Before Fancy could apologize, Kit punched her in the mouth, bloodying her knuckles on Fancy’s teeth and spilling the bubble solution all over the ground.

“I thought you didn’t want to hurt me,” Fancy said, trying to dodge Kit’s fists, her mouth stinging.

“You took everything else.” Kit pushed her. “What’s left but this?” She slapped Fancy. “And this!” She slapped her other cheek. “Don’t just stand there, you heartless bitch!”

Fancy wasn’t just standing there, but Kit was stronger and quicker than her. She couldn’t win in a real fight, so she fought with words. “Not heartless,
sensible
. Sensible enough to fall for a guy who can take care of himself. Unlike your whiny, horrible—”

“Whiny, horrible, and
innocent
!” Kit shoved her again and
then backed away from her, as if she couldn’t stand to touch her anymore, not even to fight. “You set this up, didn’t you? Just to break up me and Gabe. Why do you have to be like that? All jealous and scheming?”

Fancy swallowed the blood in her mouth and rubbed her slap-swollen cheek. “It’s ridiculous for you to care so much what Gabriel thinks of you, when he’s no better than we are.”

“Well apparently he is.
Ilan
killed Mr. Turner.”

“Well, if Ilan did it, he must’ve had a really good reason.”

“Gabe couldn’t’ve had a reason?”

“Like I can believe anything he says! He told me he killed Mr. Turner and buried the body at Dog Run. See how devious he is, mixing in the truth with his lies?”

“Oh, shut up, Fancy. Maybe he does feel responsible for Mr. Turner’s death. I felt responsible when Daddy got arrested, and I didn’t have anything to do with that. Kids always blame themselves for shit their grown-ups get involved in.” Kit glared at Fancy. “Or maybe Gabe told you what Ilan
made
him believe. Mr. Turner said Ilan used to poison Gabe. Maybe Ilan poisoned his mind, too.”

Fancy went cold at the idea that Ilan would treat his brother that way. It was one thing for him to hate Gabriel—Fancy fell
in and out of hate with Kit all the time—but it was another thing entirely to mess with his brother’s mind, to make him believe horrible things about himself.

“We have to get the boys back,” she said after a long silence.

“How?”

“We go to the happy place and
get
them. I didn’t promise Mr. Turner he could keep ’em for all eternity. If he didn’t read the fine print, that’s not our problem. We have to find out the truth, because if Ilan’s been blaming Mr. Turner’s death not only on Daddy but on his own brother this whole time—”

“What?” Kit said. “You’ll kill him?”

“Yes,” Fancy said, and then burst into tears. “And then I’ll kill myself. I’d have to.”

Kit listened to her sister cry for a long time before she nodded. “I guess you ain’t that heartless after all.”

“I wish I was,” Fancy said, practically clawing the tears from her face. “Love sucks.”

I
WENT TO
M
ADDA’S ROOM AND ASKED HER IF SHE WANTED TO GO ON VACATION WITH ME AND
K
IT.
S
HE SAID, WHERE ON VACATION?
I
SHOWED HER THE HAPPY PLACE IN THE MIRROR ON THE WALL.
S
HE TOOK THE MIRROR DOWN AND HID IT UNDER HER BED.
S
HE TOLD ME SHE DIDN’T LIKE VACATIONS.

Kit drove them home from Dog Run in Ilan’s Oldsmobile. Since Madda was usually awake that time of day, they parked back in the woods and then snuck into the cellar, and from there entered the happy place.

“You been busy,” noted Kit once they’d made it past the hedges of the Headless Garden, taking in the changes since her last disastrous visit. “Didn’t there used to be a carnival over there?”

Fancy looked where Kit was pointing, down near the beach. A massive forest had sprouted where the carnival ruins had been, dark and heavy and out of place in the breezy seascape.

“I didn’t do that,” said Fancy. “But I bet I know who did.”

As they marched toward the forest, Kit said, “Gabe told me something once about how his dad liked to go camping in the woods. Gabe always made his childhood sound so . . .”

“Idyllic?”

“Yeah! All this stuff about his dad taking him to the fair and out fishing—”

“Like Daddy did for us?” Fancy snorted. “
We
had a great childhood. Now we’re going into the woods to rescue two murderers from their dead father. Great childhoods are overrated.”

“One murderer.” Kit took Fancy’s hand in an instinctive, big-sister way, as they threaded past the first line of trees.

“Gabriel knew about it. And helped cover it up. That makes him responsible too.”

“You just refuse to give Gabe a chance.”

“If he dropped dead tomorrow, I’d dance at his funeral.”

“Fancy!”

“But as long as he’s alive,” she shouted, forcing herself to say the words, “and as long as you wanna keep him, I promise not to hurt him or try to run him off. Okay? Is that better?”

“I don’t love him more than I love you, stupid girl!”

“You almost died for him at Dog Run.”

“I knew you’d figure something out. You’re smart.”

“Not that smart!”

“You are.” Kit helped Fancy over a fallen log in their path as they entered the forest. “I’m still here, aren’t I? The thing about a boyfriend is, it’s easy to show him how you feel. When you feel love for him, you can just throw him down and nail him.”

“You should write Hallmark cards.”

“But when you feel love for your sister,” Kit asked, ignoring the sarcasm, “what can you do? You can be real obvious with a boyfriend, but with a sister you have to be more subtle.”

“Like promising not to kill her boyfriend?”

“Exactly! See, you are smart. I figured—” Kit dropped Fancy’s hand and ran forward into a clearing where a campsite had been set up. “Gabe!” She ran around the campfire and ducked into the large canvas tent, but she came out frowning. “It’s empty. Where the hell could they—”