“Afterward, I closed my eyes and let the scent cover me. And then I sensed him in the room with me. I looked up and he was just standing there, shaking his head at me.” Marian shuddered. “Wh-who?” “He said his name was Joseph-Something-or-Other, I don’t quite remember.” Marian swallowed. Once. Very loudly. “Comstock?” “What?” “Comstock. Was his last name ‘Comstock’?”
“How’d you know that?” Alan didn’t wait for an answer. “So Joseph says to me, ‘You should turn the gas off.’ So I did. I even opened all the doors and windows so nothing would go wrong. Then he told me what he’d come for, and asked me if I’d lead him to where he needed to go.
“I led him to the spot in the front room, under that hanging of The Last Supper, the spot where Grampa died. He stood there a long time, like he was searching for something, then he turned around and said there’d been a lot Grampa had forgotten about.
“I took him upstairs next, to the guest room where Grandma died. The first thing he did was ask me how she died, and I told him about how Grandma moved in with us after Grampa’s funeral because she felt so bad about things, and I told him about how I’d bring her an orange soda every night so she could read and take her pills, then about that last night when I brought her the soda and she hugged me so hard and kissed me and told me I didn’t have to sit with her if I didn’t want to, she’d understand. I told him about how I left her and how, the next morning, we found her dead because she’d taken all her pills. He just nodded at me and then sat on the bed and then found the things she’d forgotten about, as well. Then I brought him down here and he went right to the spot Dad died—I didn’t even have to show him where. He stumbled a little bit because of all the guilt and regret Dad had inside him when he died.
“The hardest part was finding Mom. I knew she had her stroke at the market and that she DOA at the hospital, but the hard part was going to be finding the exact spot where she died. We wandered through the store for a while— they’re open all night now, isn’t that nice?— until we hit the ‘Miscellaneous’ aisle. She’d gone into that aisle to get some more thread to use on her story quilt because she was almost finished with it. Joseph turned around and told me it started there, the first waves of dizziness and pain and breathing problems.
“Mom always checked-out through lane 7 because it was closest to the payphone so she could call a cab. And she had to call a cab— I’m sure we all know— because all my life I’ve been too chickenshit to drive. If I did drive then maybe— “—but that’s nothing. We walked outside and he found the spot where it really hit her. “Then he looked at me. “Took three steps. “And found her.
“Those fuckers at the hospital lied to us when they said she died on the way! She was dead before they even got there. He even told me what it was she whispered to some woman who was near.
“She was worried that no one would remember to feed the dog, Midnight. Our dog that’s been dead for six goddamn years!
“By then Joseph had everything that he came for, so we went back to the house and down to the basement. He found Dad’s old tool box and took out the hammer.
“‘It’s the only way you can find out,’” he said to me. I knew he was right. I took the hammer from him and turned it around so the claw was facing out. He turned and knelt down in front of me like he was praying. I put my free hand on the back of his head to steady myself because I was so scared, but he said, ‘Don’t be afraid,’ and I wasn’t. It was all there waiting for me, all the ugly little guilts that had found their way into the tapestries.
“I took a breath, pulled back with the hammer, started crying, and swung down at the back of his skull. I remember thinking his head made an interesting sound when it split open. You know the sound a watermelon makes after you cut it down the center and then pry the halves apart? It’s not really a pop or a crunch, but something wet in between the two? That’s what it sounded like when I opened his skull. Then I had to put the hammer down and pry the halves apart with my hands.
“God, it was a mess, but it was worth it. They all spread out before me; all their tapestries with all that unremembered, disfiguring guilt. And I fixed them, Marian, I did it. I wallowed in the ugliness, then took it away, removed it from all of their tapestries until all that was left were the whole, finished, beautiful tessellations of love and memory and happiness. And the things I found out! Did you know Mom once had an affair she never told anyone about? It was with some old friend from her days in the Childrens’ Home. It lasted three weeks and then the guy moved away. Afterward she had these little fantasies about him, which is why she and Dad seemed to have such a new marriage after their twenty-fifth anniversary. Dad never suspected, and wherever he is now, he’ll never know because I’ve got that memory, that guilt, right up here in my mind and in my heart. It’s part of my tapestry now and can’t touch them where they are.
“Oh, and Dad. You know why he always had a problem with his mother? Bitch used to beat him with her shoes when he was a little boy. High heeled shoes. Just take them off and pound at his back until it looked like Swiss cheese. Poor Aunt Boots used to stick him back together afterward and then they’d hug each other and hide in their room, scared to death she’d bust in with a ball bat and kill them both. And everyone wondered why he didn’t cry at her funeral. But the thing is, he never blamed her— he always felt guilty because he was such a bad boy and got his mother mad enough to do that to him! Well, he doesn’t have that anymore, I’ve got it! And I hope his mother is burning in Hell right now, I really do.
“I can’t tell you what it felt like, taking it away like that. It feels awful now— the worst thing I’ve ever felt— but at that moment, up to my eyes in it, it was the greatest sensation I’ve ever known. But when it was over, Joseph’s body flopped over onto its back and spoke to me. The two halves of his face kind of squirmed like worms, but I could understand him just fine, and he told me about you, about how it had to be like this. Then he fell back down and stopped moving.
“I wanted to call someone and tell them all about, how miraculous the whole thing was, but I knew if I called Aunt Boots or Laura they’d have the Twinkie Mobile over here in no time flat, so I did the next best thing; ;I walked over to the Western Union office and sent you a telegram. I knew where your show was so it was easy. It was always great of you to send us your schedule, really it was.
“And here you are. It’s great to see you, Marian. I knew this would just bring us closer together. I just knew it.”
Marian stared the man standing across from her. Closer together? She’d never felt so distanced from anyone or anything in her life. Or afraid. So afraid.
“So,” Alan said in calm, conversational tone. “How’s the show going?”
Marian blinked. Small talk? How-are-you?-chit-chat? Now? Hey, Sis, there’s a mangled body in the basement and by the way how are things with your career?
“Okay,” said Alan, “since you don’t feel like playing catch-up, what say you go find out for yourself.” He nodded at Jack, who began moving Marian toward the basement door.
“Turn on the light, and go down there. What do you say, Sis? If you really want to know if I’ve gone the Permanent Bye-Bye, that’s all you have to do.”
There was no threat in his eyes.
“I love you, Alan.”
“You keep saying that. Look, no one’s going to hurt you, I swear. You’ll walk out that front door as alive as you came in. I’d never let anything happen to you. Never.”
By now they were in front of the basement door. Alan opened it and Jack eased Marian forward. She took a deep breath and turned on the light. “Want me to come with you?” said Alan. Marian swallowed. Her mouth tasted of bile and fear. “If you’d like.” Strange, that even now he wanted to look after her, take care of her. He put a warm and reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not. Not anymore.” She looked at him and wondered why in the hell she hadn’t gone over to Aunt Boots’s house first. Then she tried to smile. And they started down the steps.