really. But maybe that was because
it was so apt. The weirdest thing of all about the Herzinger story was how
shocked everyone had been that Silas had done such a thing. He was frequently
described as “sweet”, “gentle”, and “caring”. And yet he’d done something
undeniably Evil with a capital E. It couldn’t have come from nowhere. There’d
been a deep sickness of the soul inside him, something rotten he’d hidden very
well for a long time, until it finally had to come out. Simone thought that
was the most disturbing thing of all. Because if that level of evil could
reside in a man that beloved, it could live in anyone at all.
In her own father, for
instance.
Or in Spence. Or Terry.
Even in herself,
possibly.
Terry looked at her
again. “You want any of this crap?”
Simone laughed. “My
family already has all this shit, I think. Like just about everybody else on
the planet.”
She chugged down the rest
of her beer and tossed the bottle over her shoulder, grinning at the way Terry
winced when it shattered on the floor somewhere behind her. “Relax,” she said,
still smiling. “The owners won’t mind. I promise. Here, you carry the beer
for a while.”
She proffered the bag
with one hand and snatched the phone from Terry with the other.
Terry made a sound of
dismayed surprise. “Hey.”
Simone was still holding
out the bag. “Take the beer, Terry.”
He hesitated a moment
before slipping the bag’s handles from her fingers. “You didn’t even ask if
you could use the phone.”
She laughed. “That’s
something you still haven’t figured out about life. Sometimes you just gotta take what you want.”
A moment of pregnant
silence elapsed as they stared at each other in the semi-darkness. Terry’s
eyes were narrowed to slits because Simone had aimed the light at his face.
Then he let out a breath and took a step toward her.
Simone moved back a step
and shook her head. “And sometimes there are things you’re just not meant to
have.”
She felt a little stab of
guilt as she saw Terry’s face crumple. The feeling intensified as she replayed
the words she’d uttered in her head. This was a slightly cruel thing she’d
just done. Maybe more than slightly.
She frowned. “I’m
sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”
There was another brief
silence. Then Terry sighed. “It’s okay.”
Simone shook her head.
“No. It’s not.” She decided she should change the subject, and quickly. “Do
you think the stories we heard as kids are true?”
“About the ghost of Silas
Herzinger?”
“Yeah.”
Terry shrugged. “I don’t
believe in ghosts. Not really. I mean, I guess it’s possible that what we
think of as ghosts is just some kind of unexplained scientific phenomenon.
But…”
“In other words, you’re
not sure. Meaning it’s possible.”
Terry frowned. “Is that
what you think?”
“Do you think I’m
stupid?”
“No. Of course not.
Jesus.”
Simone smirked. “Stop
being so sensitive. I’m just playing with you. I don’t know what I really
think when it comes to otherworldly crap. I mean, I tend not to believe, but
anything’s possible. We don’t know everything. You know?”
She moved away from
Terry, circumventing the couch as she headed for the far end of the living
room, where she encountered a staircase leading to the second floor. Past the
staircase was a dark hallway.
Learning to Kill: Stories