Amateur Hour

In her dream, Lisa found herself standing in the grotto. The full moon rode high in the black sky above her, and the warm breeze stirred her light, simple garments. She reveled for a moment in the freedom with which she breathed, unhampered by the stays that were sometimes so tightly laced that they rubbed her skin raw. Gone, too, was the weight of the bustle that made her back ache.

The fire popped and crackled cheerfully, though it wasn’t necessary in the warmth of an August night. It was merely a part of their tradition, and it provided a bit of extra illumination.

Her sisters stood with her; Beatrice to her right, and Katherine (Kitty) to her left. Their circle was still small, including three more full members, and the three novices, who stood before her, now.

She was sober, as she regarded them. Two were in their teens, the third but twelve years of age—Beatrice’s eldest girl. Lisa felt her lips curve into a smile, for that one. A steady, studious child who would be an asset to the group. The girl beside her, as well, was a likely choice, with her perfect memory when it came to herbs, their uses, and identifying them. She was a healer, in the making.

Her eyes came to rest on the third girl. She had deep and serious doubts about Caroline, which had nothing to do with her talents. It was her cast of character that gave her, and the women flanking her, pause. Callie was incautious, almost arrogant. She was bright; that was to her credit. Yet, she was too eager to shine. She had too inflated an opinion of her own abilities.

Little Bess was the first called forward to receive her pin, a small silver crescent; the blessing; the sip from the chalice. She accepted them with her wonted seriousness. Bright eyed Libby was next, for once keeping her mischievous humor under control. In her turn, she was pinned and blessed, and given the cup, to drink of the wine. She took only the shallowest of sips—Libby didn’t like wine, but she managed not to make a face, this time.

Caroline stepped forward with an alacrity that caused her to stumble over a root. When she caught her balance, she glanced around the circle, to see the reactions of the other women. There was a small sound from Libby, but it was due to Bess elbowing her, with a warning look that stopped her, mid titter.

It was unfortunate, especially given what she was about to say to the girl. Lisa felt her arm reach out to Caroline, to draw her closer; heard a voice speak, that wasn’t her own.

“Callie, we’ve decided that now is not your time. In another year, perhaps.”

“What have I done… or not done?” Caroline demanded, confusion and hurt pride written on her pretty face.

“We’ll discus it, tomorrow. For now, accept our blessing and go in peace.”

“I shall not!” Caroline drew away from the kiss. She raked the three elders with an infuriated glare, then dashed the cup from Beatrice’s hand.

“Callie, see reason,” Kitty tried to soothe her. “It is only a year that we ask you to wait.”

“To wait? To work and to be considered lesser than them—!” In her fury, Callie’s grammar had begun to slip. She turned to glare at Bess and Libby, who were regarding her with horror, at her behavior. “Close your mouth, Bess; lest a fat moth flies in,” she added with disdain.

“You may leave, Caroline,” Lisa heard the not-her-voice say. “Tomorrow—“

“Tomorrow, be damned!”

“Then, you may leave. Do not return.”

Caroline gasped as though she had been drenched in cold water. Her countenance crumbled. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Good evening, Margaret,” she said, at last, drawing what was left of her dignity about her.

“I fear this was a mistake,” Beatrice remarked, as they watched her go. “I underestimated her humiliation.” The firelight glinted off the pearl brooch at her throat, a triplet to the ones worn by Margaret and Kitty.

“The mistake was in accepting her, in the first place,” Kitty said. “I regret advocating for her.”

“No,” Margaret’s voice said, “she…”

“She has only herself to blame,” Lisa muttered aloud. The sound of her own voice woke her up, and for a few seconds she was so distracted by the situation that she could barely remember the dream.

“Hmm? What?” Tuck stirred, next to her.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” Lisa whispered. The dream came back to her, then. Dream? No, memory. Margaret’s memory. Lisa fingered the brooch pinned to her nightshirt. One of three, that had been just like it.

One of several, over the years, Margaret’s voice corrected her. I’m the only one who ever wore mine, in public. Mine was the first.

“I thought you said something,” Tuck yawned. He turned more to face her, regarding her with sleepy brown eyes.

“I talk in my sleep, sometimes. It drove Liam nuts, when we were little enough to share a room.”

He’d gotten warm, ten minutes after they had settled down for the night, and taken off his undershirt. Lisa settled her head on his bare chest, now, enjoying the feel of his hair and skin, against her cheek. For her, this was a bold move, but Tuck only put his arm around her.

“Bad dream?” he asked.

“No, not really. Just vivid. Go back to sleep.”

In a moment, he was breathing deeply, sound asleep, once more.

Why had Margaret chosen to show her that particular memory, she wondered. Was it important, in and of itself, or was it just a demonstration that she could communicate in that way? It hadn’t been a terrible dream, while not particularly pleasant. It was interesting to learn that the grotto had been in use, from such an early time. There had to be more to it than that, though. Was it simply meant to be a revelation that Margaret and her friends had been practicing witches, or something similar?

Oddly, Lisa wasn’t surprised. Having met present day witches, she wasn’t particularly disturbed, either. They had never done anything other than try to help her. Why would it be relevant?

If it wasn’t, what was she meant to focus on, in this dream?

It was quite some time, before she could fall asleep again.

**************************************

In an unusual turn of events, Lisa was alone in the house, when the UPS carrier arrived and dropped off a large box, on the porch. Toni had gone to the printer’s with her first brochure design, hoping to place a small order. Will had gone to his office, for his one and only appointment to show a house, this week, and Tuck was outside, working with Buckshot on some reining maneuvers.

Lisa had been contentedly browsing for books to start filling the new shelves she had ordered, when she heard the screen door open, something thump to the porch boards, and the door close again. By the time she got there, the delivery driver was making his getaway, back up the driveway toward the road.

She slipped her fingers under the plastic strapping and tested the weight. It wasn’t light, but she thought she could manage to get it inside. She dragged it in, and set it on the coffee table. She was just getting ready to go back to her shopping—she was only up to the G’s in authors’ names, in the science fiction category—when her eye was snagged by the lettering on the box.

‘Peaceful Pet’, the label read, ‘Large Dog Coffin’.

Lisa threw her head back, and guffawed. “That’s so gross!” she exclaimed, to the ceiling. And, so appropriate, her mind added.

An hour later, Tuck came in and spotted the box.

“I could have brought that in,” he frowned, as he hung up his jacket and hat.

“Habit,” Lisa shrugged. “Where I’m from, you don’t dare leave packages outside, for too long. Porch pirates,” she explained, when he looked mildly confused.

“Oh. So, what do you think?” he smiled, with a quizzical lift of his eyebrow.

“I think it’ll work.” Her amusement reflected his.

Tuck pulled out his pocket knife, and cut away the plastic straps, then cut into the tape. He put the box on the floor, and turned it over. The pet coffin inside slid out lid down. He rolled it back upright, and set it on the table.

“Yep. It’s a box,” he said.

It was; an unvarnished oak box, with sturdy handles at each end.

“Maybe we can toss him in it, and throw it in the ground, tomorrow,” Lisa proposed, deliberately callous.

“Why wait? If we separate the bones into two batches, I can get them up the ladder.”

“I don’t think you should be in the house.”

“I believe you’re safe enough.” Tuck indicated the brooch, with a slight nod.

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you.”

“You think Noah’s gonna drive his car off a cliff? I don’t.”

“The smart thing to do is to wait for Will, and attack it tomorrow. Or—“ she put up a hand to forestall his frustrated reply, “at least wait until this afternoon, when he gets home.”

Tuck was shaking his head.

“No. Not another damned minute. I’m sick of this—literally puking sick of it. I don’t want to live another hour, in Noah Land. You have no idea, what it’s like, Lisa. I want to be alone, in my head. I want to feel my own feelings, and only my own feelings. I want to come home, and I want my life back!” His voice rose, as he spoke, in volume, if not in pitch. He wasn’t quite shouting, but he was getting close to it.

“Okay.” Lisa’s own tone was soft. “Where’s the pocket watch? We don’t want to forget that.”

Tuck drew a deep breath, and got himself under control. “It’s in my room, on top of the chest of drawers. If you’ll get it, I’ll load the box into the Jeep.” He sounded calmer, though his color was still a bit high.

***********

She entered Tuck’s room, feeling like an intruder, and went straight to the chest of drawers next to his closet. The watch was there, in a plastic zip bag, between framed photos of Toni and Patty. They had looked alike, she mused. Toni resembled her mother more than she did Tuck, except when it came to facial expressions—her face moved almost exactly like his.

Lisa had seen other pictures of Patty, of course. They were scattered throughout the house. She wouldn’t have had it any other way, yet… She exhaled a little sigh. There was something daunting about it. The face she studied now looked like someone she would have liked. There was less reserve in it, than in Toni’s. Toni had warmed up to her, over time; Patty looked as though she would have been friendly, from the outset.

It was a pretty face, with an open smile and sky-blue eyes—as different as it could be from Lisa’s. She was well aware that her own expression, her resting face, had a neutral quality to it that didn’t invite unsolicited conversation, and her eyes were more watchful and wary.

She was shaking her head at this thought, when Tuck spoke, from the door.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine. Sorry—I was woolgathering.” She closed her left hand hastily over the watch, in its plastic bag. Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to face him.

For his part, Tuck looked fully in command of himself, again. She expected him to turn and lead the way out, but he stepped into the room, and slipped behind her, to rummage for something in his closet. Presently, he emerged with a camping backpack.

“For the radio,” he explained. “Might as well grab that, too, while I’m there.” He studied her, for a moment. “Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You use that necklace, like a worry stone, when you’re anxious about something. It’s a tell you’ve developed. Look, I know I got a little hot under the collar, but I’m okay, now.”

Lisa dropped the pendant. “I can see that,” she smiled.

“Has it got something to do with that?” he indicated Patty’s picture, with a sideways nod of his head.

“No. Not directly, anyway. I just keep bumping up against my own awkward presence, here. Ready to go?”

************

Tuck tossed the backpack into the back seat, while Lisa climbed into the front. He paused before opening his own door. Lisa had remembered the watch. Was there anything else they might have forgotten? No. Everything else that had been on the remains were still with the remains.

He glanced at his companion, and gave her a smile that was meant to be reassuring, as he buckled up. She smiled back, but she still didn’t look enthused. Tuck started the engine, and ‘Seven Wonders’ began to play on the stereo. Lisa turned the volume up, a little.

“Got your pin?” he asked.

“Yeah. Seems a bit dressy, for the shirt I’m wearing, but…”

“I don’t think so. It’s very small.”

“Sounds like you’re a little nervous, now,” she observed, as he backed the car, turned it, and headed down the driveway.

“A little, maybe. Much as I want to be done with Noah, forever, I’m not stupid. I hope you have the pepper spray, too. If I so much as look at you funny, I want you to blast me with it.” His voice was grim.

“Oh, I will.” Her tone was equally grim. A sideways glance told him that she was worrying at the watch fob pendant again. It was a self soothing mechanism, for her. The last thing he wanted was to deprive her of it, by making her self conscious about it.

Out on the road, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Seven Wonders’ gave way to ‘You and I’.

“There’s something about this song that always reminds me of an ice skating rink,” she chuckled, seeming to relax a bit.

“Me, too. And I’ve never seen an ice skating rink, in person.”

“We should have left a note,” she said.

“I didn’t even think of that. I suppose we can text them.”

“What do you want me to say?” she asked, pulling out her phone.

“Just the facts, I reckon. The box came, we’ve gone to the house, home by dinner time,” he shrugged. “Hopefully, Jethro won’t leave a contrail behind him, trying to catch up to us.” He smirked at the thought.

Lisa pondered her words, for a moment, then began tapping out her text message, addressed to both Toni and Will.

“Noah’s box arrived. We’ve gone to the rectory, to put him in it. We should be home, before dinner. We’ve got this,” she read aloud, when she was finished.

“Yeah. That’ll keep Will at home.”

“I haven’t hit ‘send’ yet. Do you have anything better? And, why do you care if he comes, anyway? I thought the point was that you just had to do this, now.”

“I don’t care; I’m just griping. It’s fine—send it. And, don’t mind me. I’m of two minds about the thing. I do want to have done with it, but I know it’s potentially dangerous. Maybe you should just stay topside, and let me deal with the stuff in the cellar.”

“It’ll go faster, with two of us…” she trailed off, her attention diverted to the stereo.

The first chorus of ‘Caroline’ had just begun.

“What?”

“Nothing… Only, I had a funny dream, last night. One of the characters in it was named Caroline.” She shook her head, as though to clear it. “Weird coincidence. The song probably inspired the dream—we’ve been listening to that album, for the past couple of days,” she shrugged.

“Was that what you were dreaming about, when you were talking in your sleep? Was Caroline the one who had ‘only herself, to blame’?”

“Is that what I was mumbling, when I woke myself up?” she asked, a shade too innocently.

“You said it very clearly. That’s why I woke up. I’ve heard you mutter, before— Last night, I thought you were awake and talking to me, directly.”

“I barely remember what the dream was about. A bunch of women standing around. I doubt it has anything to do with anything.”

Yet, she frowned, and continued to do so, for the rest of the drive. Tuck left her to her analysis, confident that if she came to any conclusion, she’d share it.

The house was beginning to take on a dilapidated air, even in the mid-afternoon light. The aged plywood didn’t help, nor did the fragments of glass from the broken windows, glittering in the sunshine. Someone should sweep that up, Tuck thought, as he parked the car.

“So, the box is going in, with us?” Lisa asked.

“Seems like the most efficient way to do it. Bag him up, drag him up, and dump him in.”

“How? Each of us carrying some of him and his stuff up the ladder, or one going down and the other staying up, to pull up the bags?”

“We’ll both go. I’ll collect that radio, and the personal effects—they won’t weigh much. We can bag the bones, tie them to a rope, and I’ll drag them up, once I’m back in the bedroom.”

“It might be best to divide the bones into two bags. The whole skeleton will weigh about twenty pounds or so. That’s a lot to pull up, on a rope. It’s not just the weight I’m thinking of, but balance, too. If you’re standing, you could fall back in. If you’re lying prone, you could strain a muscle. Cutting the weight in half reduces the chance of either.”

“Huh… Jethro might have been an asset, after all,” Tuck mused.

“You work with the crew you’ve got.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, honey,” he laughed at her mildly offended expression. “My crew may not have brawn, but she’s obviously got brains. Two bags, it is.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

***********

Lisa made a series of faces, as she tugged on her suit and gloves.

“If I never have to do this again, it’ll be too soon,” she remarked.

“I couldn’t agree more. I say we get this done, and nail the cellar cover closed. Put some new vinyl flooring down, and forget it was ever there.”

Lisa nodded, and unpinned her brooch. She re-pinned it to the outside of her papery suit, before zipping it up. She thought she saw something flash behind Tuck’s eyes, before he gave another of those peculiar, warding off shakes of his head.

“Tucker?” She reached out a hand, and put it over his heart.

“Oh, Noah’s here, all right,” Tuck confirmed. “And he does not care for your jewelry.” He took her hand, the one with his ring on it, and kissed it. “Let’s get this done.”

At the bottom of the ladder, Tuck removed his empty backpack and went first to the shelf where the monstrosity of a radio was stored. It fit the backpack, with enough room to spare for the small bag of Noah’s personal effects. Lisa added the pocket watch to the collection, before he closed up the pack, and placed it at the foot of the ladder.

“I’ll put half of the bones in this bag, and you can put the rest in another. Just bundle them up in your linen cloth,” he added seeing her reluctance to touch them, even with gloves.

Lisa watched him move energetically and efficiently to gather his half, without the overweening care he had shown for the remains the first time he had handled them. Noah appeared to be keeping a low profile, and why not? This was what he had said he wanted, after all.

“Rope?” she asked, suddenly remembering it.

“In the outer pocket of the pack.”

He was tying up his bag, when he stopped and snapped his fingers. The sound startled her, and the gesture puzzled her. She’d never seen it, before.

“I damn near forgot,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m supposed to call a buddy of mine, about my retirement party. Could I borrow your phone, dear? I’d like to do it now, before I forget—again.”

Lisa unzipped the topmost portion of her suit, and sheepishly fished her phone out of her bra. He removed his mask and grinned as she handed it to him. There was something lewd, almost predatory, about the expression that made her take a step back, as he direct dialed a number into the device, then held it to his ear. He turned his back to her.

“Joey—Tuck Rawlings.” There was a pause. “Yeah, yeah, yeah—I know. I forgot.” Another pause ensued, while Tuck listened. “Oh, that’s too bad…” A pause. “Okay, well, when you find out, I’ll be at this number, for a while. It’s my fiancee’s phone.” A brief pause. “Smartass. No, mine is in my car.” A final pause. “Okay—talk to you in a bit, then. Bye.”

Watching him, listening to him, Lisa had the creepy notion that she was not watching Tuck. Rather, she was watching someone play Tuck—just like on the night he had boarded up the windows. Every alarm bell was clanging.

He was lying about the phone. It was in his rear pants pocket. She had merely thought he’d asked for hers, because it was easier for her to get to hers.

Another thing: Tuck wouldn’t turn his back to her, just to make a phone call. He would put it on speaker, and make comical faces, in reaction to being chewed out by a buddy for forgetting to call. He had far fewer boundaries than she did, and seemed to like to include her, in little things.

When he turned back to her, Lisa was grateful for her mask, because she imagined she’d gone pale. She could certainly feel the cold, clammy sweat, on her face and body. He couldn’t know that she suspected anything. The last time he’d realized that she was onto him, Noah had gotten violent.

“Mind if I hang onto this, in case Joey calls back?” he asked, holding up the phone.

“Sure. What’s the story?” she added, while she watched him put it into his elasticized sleeve, with a sinking feeling that she didn’t quite understand.

“The venue fell through. He’s scouting up another one.” Noah-cum-Tuck lifted his bag and carried it to the foot of the ladder, leaving Lisa to carry her own. It wasn’t heavy. She could manage it easily, but that was beside the point. Tuck would have carried both of them. She watched him tie the thin rope securely under the knot at the neck of the bag. He picked up the pack.

“Think you can hold this, while I slip my arms in?”

“I think I can manage that.” She forced her voice to sound modulated and cheerful, though her heart was in her throat.

“I’ll go up, pull this one up, and then drop the rope back down, for you to tie the other one on,” he said, then began to climb, without another word.

Lisa watched him, torn between her fear of Noah, and her concern for Tuck, bearing that unwieldy pack. He made it, without incident, though. He disappeared from view for a moment, while he removed the pack.

“Tuck?” she called up, when it seemed like it was taking a long time.

“Keep your shirt on,” he called back. In a few seconds, he reappeared. “I didn’t want to set the damned thing on this sticky floor,” was his irritable explanation. He took up the rope and began to pull up the first black plastic bag.

“Well, excuse the hell out of me, for wanting to get out of this dungeon,” Lisa snapped.

“Always with the smart mouth…”

It didn’t take him long to drag the bag up, untie the rope, and set it aside.

“Stand back,” he commanded, before dropping the end of the rope back into the cellar.

She did, muttering, “Up yours,” under her breath. Her hands shook with anger and fear, as she tied up the other bag. “Good to go,” she called up, when she finished fumbling with the knot.

“Stand back, dammit!” he shouted, when she went to mount the ladder. “Do you want to be under this, if I drop it?”

The second bag ascended faster than the first, but instead of untying it, the man above her turned back to her. She couldn’t see his face clearly, as he was backlit by the westering light. But, she knew he was staring at her.

Then, to her horror, the ladder began to move upward too. Lisa was too stunned, for a moment to move. When her paralysis broke, she leapt for the bottom rung of the ladder.

“Tuck!” she shrieked, as her hand caught at and slipped off the rung. “What the hell?! Tucker!”

She could hear him laughing.

“I… WILL… KILL… YOU!!” she screamed up, at him.

“I’m already dead, you little harpy!” he called back. “I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go away, now,” he chortled. He vanished, and she could hear his steps cross the floor above her, until he reached the part of the house that wasn’t built over the cellar.