It was a beautiful, blissful afternoon, Shelby, but all good things must end. As the sun set, as darkness crept across the lake, I put you back in the car seat, and I began to drive. You know where I went. I drove and drove in a kind of perfect peace and stillness. We had a long way to go, the two of us, along empty highways, past empty forestland, with the monster’s moon shining overhead. But I knew where to go and what I had to do.
And when it was done, I returned home the next day. My plan of action was clear. There was no going back. I went to my house for what I knew would be the last time. I slept on the sofa for a while, to get my strength back, but I really didn’t sleep much at all. When I did, I had my usual nightmares.
Night had already fallen when I awoke. It was time for the party at the 126.
Time to meet Ricky.
It took me a while, digging in the closet, to find the hat Ben had given me seven years earlier, along with all the other volunteers who were searching in the forest. I still had it.
URSULINA HUNTER.
I wanted to send Ricky a message by wearing it, and I was sure he’d understand.
I know.
Then I drove to the 126.
Everyone was there, seemingly the whole county crammed shoulder to shoulder. There were half a dozen televisions mounted around the bar, all of them tuned to NBC. The documentary would be starting in half an hour, but I saw commercials for it. Ben Malloy Discovers: The Return of the Ursulina. The promos featured quick clips of Ben using words like murder, monster, and blood, plus fake footage of a beast’s hairy legs tramping through the forest.
Some people wore recycled Halloween costumes from Thursday evening, but most had come as Ursulinas, short and tall, thin and fat, silly and scary. The 126 had been transformed into a bizarre, drunken zoo, filled with people letting out beastly growls. Ben himself stood on a makeshift stage with a microphone in hand, clapping and egging them on as he paced restlessly back and forth.
I looked for Ricky among the monsters. With his papier-mâché head and long, thick neck, he’d be easy to find, but I didn’t see him yet. Instead, I found Sandra, who was obviously going after the prize for sexiest Ursulina, because she wore a fur bikini, along with fur boots and a shaggy wig. She was drinking hard stuff that night, whiskey on the rocks, and she had a pack of cigarettes jutting out of her bikini top.
“Hey, you,” she said to me. I heard a looseness in her voice, and I suspected the whiskey wasn’t her first.
“Hey.”
“Two weeks after you deliver, and you look like that. It kills me.”
“Thanks.”
“Where’s Shelby?”
I’d been prepared for that question. I had a lie ready. “One of my neighbors offered to babysit.”
“I’m impressed that you were able to leave her so soon.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I changed the subject, because if I didn’t, I was going to cry all over again.
“Hey, Sandra? I want you to know I’m sorry.”
“About what?”
“All the things Darrell said to you.”
She laughed. “Don’t worry about that. Ever since, rumors have been getting around that I’m the killer. Now the men at the mine are afraid of me. I love it.”
“Still, I feel bad.”
Sandra cocked her head as she looked at me. “You okay, honey?”
“I’m fine,” I said, lying again.
“The early weeks are tough. I know.”
“Yeah, that must be it.”
She drained her whiskey and then patted my cheek and left me alone. Around me, everyone else was having a good time. Drinking. Laughing. Growling. My own dark eyes kept probing the bar, going from monster to monster. I wondered if Darrell was here somewhere, but I knew this wasn’t his scene. It was better that way. There would only be trouble if he came.
Then I felt a paw on my shoulder.
When I turned around, I saw the cartoonish face painted on the head, the fake mismatched fur top and bottom.
“You’re here,” Ricky said, with a little surprise.
“You told me to be here,” I replied evenly. “I do what you tell me now. Isn’t that our deal?”
“Good girl. Where’s the kid?”
“She’s safe.”
That answer made him pause, as if my dull voice were broadcasting a kind of alarm. But Ricky was Ricky, and he didn’t let it trouble him for long. “This is good, you know. You and me back together. I’ve missed you, Bec.”
“Sure you have.”
“We should celebrate later,” he said. “Celebrate like man and wife.”
“Sure we will.”
I couldn’t muster any false emotion on my face to reinforce the lie. I was beyond anger, beyond regret, beyond humiliation. I’d already done the worst thing I could possibly do in my life, so what was left?
“Let’s surprise them,” Ricky suggested. “Come on, I can’t wait to see their faces.”
His gloved hands went to his neck, where he peeled away the tape that held the cardboard neck in place. He reached up and removed the balloon-shaped head and pried off the cardboard tube at the same time. With the mask gone, his face was revealed. My ex-husband stood in front of me.
Everyone in the bar saw him. He was right about the reaction. An uncomfortable quiet spread through the 126 like the ripples of a wave in the water. Then the low murmurs began all around us.
Ricky.
People headed our way immediately, zeroing in on us. Sandra got there first. I had to insert myself between them, because she was on the verge of launching a drunken assault. She shoved her face over my shoulder and bellowed her disgust at Ricky.
“You! What do you think you’re doing here? I can’t believe you’d have the balls to show your face in this town again. Get the hell out before the cops throw your sorry ass in jail.”
Ricky just smiled, using that smile that was more like a sneer. He’d used it on me that very first day at the high school football game when we met. Back then, I’d had no idea what it really meant. All those years since then, and I’d never guessed the truth, never guessed what he was concealing from me.
“Didn’t you hear the good news, Sandra?” Ricky told her. “Bec and I have reconciled.”
She unleashed a curse of disbelief. “Bullshit. That’s bullshit.”
“It’s true.”
Sandra turned her attention to me with her face just inches from mine. “Say the word, honey, and ten men will toss this asshole out to the street.”
Ricky draped a paw around my shoulder. “Don’t be like that, Sandra. Be happy for us. I’ve apologized, and Bec’s forgiven me. We were both wrong. We both did things we regret. The main thing is, we have a child now, and we have to put her first.”
Sandra stared at me with a mix of anger and horror. “Honey, you can’t be serious. You cannot take him back.”
I took a deep breath. “It’s okay, Sandra.”
“Okay? Are you kidding? What’s wrong with you?”
“Leave it. Please.”
But Sandra wasn’t the only one in the bar trying to rescue me. Norm came up to me, too. “Rebecca? What’s going on? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Has Ricky hurt you in any way?”
I shook my head. “No. He hasn’t.”
“Ricky, you need to leave,” Norm told him in a firm voice. “You’re not welcome here. Not after what you did.”
“I think that’s up to Rebecca, don’t you?” Ricky replied confidently, not intimidated by the crowd gathered around us, half of whom were dressed like monsters. “What do you say, Bec? Should I stay or go?”
My face must have looked like the rigid papier-mâché mask that he’d worn. “You can stay.”