The Darkening Dream by Andy Gavin Read Free Book Online Page B

Mrs. Williams was inside the kitchen baking with Emma, their Negro cook. The room felt like an oven but smelled delicious.
    “I’d give you a hug,” Anne’s mother said as Sarah closed the screen door, “but I have a pear pie in my hands. Follow me into the dining room so those vultures can sink their talons into it. I don’t suppose you want a piece?”
    “You know I can’t, but it looks gorgeous.”
    She followed the big woman through the double-hinged doors. The room was full, not just with the family and boarders but also Alex, all looking rather satiated. There were no seats at the table, so she dragged a side chair next to Anne.
    “We should get going,” Sarah whispered. “More time before dark.”
    “Almost finished here,” Anne said. “The men demand pie for the road.”
    “Alex ate with you?”
    “And you pretend not to be interested. Sam invited him, then all but chained him to the chair across from me, but don’t worry, I’m waiting for the tall, blond, and pliant type. We—”
    The doors swung open and Mr. Barnyard, the family’s basset hound, bounded in. He went straight for Emily, his favorite, then proceeded to press his huge head into the lap of each person around the table. Alex pushed back his chair and stood up. Mr. Barnyard, not to be denied his introductory crotch sniff, forced him into the corner.
    “What’s the matter, Alex?” Sam said. “Something hounding you?”
    Alex tried to laugh. “I just don’t like dogs.”
    “He only wants to say hello,” Emily said.
    Alex allowed Mr. Barnyard his fun but held his hands awkwardly in front of him as if trying to restrain himself from pushing the dog away. Sarah sympathized. She had nothing against Mr. Barnyard, but he did have a tendency to leave foot-long strands of drool on your clothes.
    Mr. Williams jumped into the pause in the conversation.
    “Kids, do you really think this outing to the Willows is such a good idea with a homicidal maniac on the loose?”
    “Don’t worry, Pop.” Sam started clearing the table. “It’s a public place and nothing’s going to happen on my watch.”

    The trolley line to the Willows was an older one, horse-drawn, not yet upgraded to overhead power. Still, the journey wasn’t long, and they arrived with at least two hours of daylight left.
    The thirty-five-acre amusement park occupied a wooded peninsula jutting out into Salem Harbor. Sarah came two or three times a year, always with her friends — Papa didn’t care for public amusements. As usual, she saw people dancing in the big pavilion. In winter the boards were pulled aside and the floor slicked with ice. They still danced, on silvery blades instead of leathery soles. The muted sounds of the orchestra rippled the evening air, drifting among the buildings and trees to mix with the chatter of the crowd and the excited cries of children. The sounds of fun.
    “Can we ride the water chute first?” Emily asked. “Mommy says I shouldn’t, but if we have time to dry, she’ll never know.”
    “Sounds like a plan,” Sam said.
    “Sam,” Anne said, “if Mom doesn’t want her to—”
    “I’m not a baby,” Emily said. “I can do what I want.”
    Sarah put her arm on Anne’s shoulder. “It’s just a water ride.”
    The shoulder relaxed. “You’re right,” Anne said. “But Emily’s been acting strange. She disappeared after the funeral and pretends she doesn’t remember. No one forgets a whole afternoon, not unless they were drunk as a skunk.”
    “Methinks more sulk than sot,” Sarah whispered.
    Anne sighed. “Sorry, Emily,” she said, loud enough so everyone could hear. “Go ahead. I won’t tell Mom.”
    “Thanks, Sarah!” Emily called from up ahead.
    “And you even get the credit,” Anne said.
    “Has she started bleeding yet?” Sarah let the distance grow between them and the others.
    “She hasn’t told me, but I’ve seen extra bloody rags in the laundry.”
    “It was traumatic for me,” Sarah said.