The Loveliest Dead by Ray Garton Read Free Book Online Page B

the darkness, out of reach of the hallway night-light’s glow. Arms took shape at the round sides of the fat figure as it rose, large and hulking.  
    “Gitcher butt over here, y’fuckin’ puppy.”
    Miles was not aware of the exact moment when he was finally able to scream; he only knew he was screaming.
    The overhead light flashed on after what seemed an eternity. The room filled with light and Dad and Mom were beside him, sleepy but frantic. Mom’s arms were around him, and he was able to stop screaming.  
    Mom glanced up at Dad. “David, what did I tell you about those movies?” She pressed her cheek to Miles’s head. “No more horror movies.”  
    Even as Mom hugged him, Miles’s eyes held on the spot where, just seconds before, he had seen the figure of what had appeared to be a fat man wearing something on his head rising up out of the floor.  
    “There was a man in here!” Miles said.
    Mom backed away suddenly and frowned down at him. “What?”
    “There was a man in here just a minute ago!”
    She looked up at Dad, who frowned at her.
    Dad said, “What man?”
    “He was coming up out of the floor.”
    They both rolled their eyes.
    “See what I mean?” Mom said. “No more monster movies, period.” She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, then put her hand on his chest and gently pressed him back toward his pillow.  
    Miles moved away from her hand and sat up. “No! I don’t want to go back to bed! He’ll be back!” He did not know why, but he had no doubt of this. There had been a purposefulness to the man’s voice that suggested he was not yet finished with Miles. “He called me a puppy!”  
    Mom laughed. “He called you a puppy ? Well, that’s kind of sweet, isn’t it?”  
    “Not the way he said it. Can I come sleep with you? I don’t want to sleep in here.”
    Mom sighed and looked up at Dad.
    After a moment, Dad said, “Okay, but don’t get used to it. This is a one-time deal, okay? No more after this.”
    He bobbed his head up and down with vigor. “Okay. Okay.”
    Miles lay between them with his eyes wide open and stared into the dark long after they were both asleep. They thought he had a nightmare—they didn’t even have to say it out loud, it was an accepted fact. But he knew he had not been dreaming. He kept his eyes open until he finally dozed off a couple hours later. Miles no longer trusted the dark.  
     
     

 
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Friday, 1:38 P.M.
     
    The next day, Jenna spent the afternoon working on the living room. It was dark and dreary, and she hoped someday to be able to redecorate and brighten it up. It had been decorated last, she guessed, sometime in the seventies.  
    There was a rust-colored shag carpet that hadn’t been vacuumed in a long time, and matching drapes on the picture window behind the large Mediterranean-style couch upholstered in brown crushed velvet. A matching coffee table stood in front of the couch with a centerpiece of wax fruit that was gray with dust. The couch was flanked by two matching end tables, and on each stood a hideous lamp with a cream-colored, chimney shade and a light in the fat round base of amber glass. There was an old wooden straight-back chair with a brown cushion tied to the seat and back. The brown vinyl-upholstered recliner had seen better days—David said it was comfortable, but tears in the upholstery made it an eyesore. Another end table stood beside the recliner, with another matching ugly lamp on it.  
    First, Jenna threw the wax fruit in the garbage. She dusted everything and vacuumed the carpet. She put a tan-and-cream afghan Martha had crocheted over the back of the couch. On the mantel over the fireplace, which had been bare when they moved in, she set out a collection of handblown glass animals that had belonged to her grandmother. She found it odd that there were no photographs in the house—none on the walls in the living room or hallways, none on the mantel. She set out a few of their