Dead End Street Read online

  Most of all, Marlene didn’t want to think about her mother, who would probably be lying on the living room couch, asleep at 3:30 in the afternoon, her mouth open with alcohol fumes dancing on her breath.

  * * *

  Marlene was sweating by the time she arrived at the old Tuttle house. The group was supposed to meet at six. She glanced down at her watch and saw that it was three minutes after. If only Mom hadn’t asked her to take out all the garbage before she left.

  But there wasn’t time to worry about that now. Marlene hurried up the steps and rushed into the house.

  It was empty. Marlene shook her head and made a little “tsk-tsk” sound to herself. What was she thinking? None of her friends were even close to being as punctual as she was.

  Marlene looked around the living room. It was easier to see today because the sun was brighter. Not that there was that much to look at. The same dust balls hovered on the hardwood floor, which had warped and faded. Cobwebs clung to the corners of the room near the ceiling, just like last week.

  Somehow, she expected more: one of little Stacey’s dolls, perhaps, lying in a corner with its head ripped off, or a bloody handprint on the wall leading up the stairs.

  But there was nothing. The house was empty and quietly decomposing, fading away from neglect.

  So why did she feel so nervous? Why, even as she wondered what was causing her to feel this way, were pinpricks of sweat popping up on her face in spite of the chill? Why did it feel as though someone was watching her? She shook her head. She knew that was impossible.

  There’s someone in the house with you, Marlene.

  The voice popped into her mind, almost as if it were not her own thought.

  Her hands began to tremble. She tried to tell herself she was being silly, caught up in being alone in this house with its infamous reputation. But the creepiness persisted, washing over her in waves that seemed to get stronger, then weaker, as if her rational mind fought for control with her emotions, which told her to be scared, to run.

  She turned slowly, looking for something, but she wasn’t sure what. She rubbed her hands against her face, knowing that what she suddenly experienced couldn’t be real.

  If some really is watching me, I’d see them. Right? Right?

  Marlene decided to wait outside for the others.

  * * *

  Finally they were finally all there. (“I had to help my dad in the shop!” Roy whined when he was confronted with the fact that he was more than twenty minutes late.)

  Marlene stood up. “Before I start telling my story, I wanted to clear up a few things.” She dug into her backpack and brought out the articles she had photocopied at the library earlier that day. The papers in her hand rustled as she made her way around the room handing one set each to Roy, Erin, David, and finally Peter. She looked at Peter with a smirk when she gave him the documents.

  “I went to the library today and did a little research. These are copies of articles I made about the Tuttles’ murders.” Marlene took a breath. “You’ll see when you read them that everything Peter told you last week was a wild figment of his imagination.”

  Peter was scanning the articles. He looked up and said, “It was only supposed to be a story, Marlene. I thought everyone understood I was just making up a lot of that stuff.”

  “Oh?” Marlene cocked her head to one side. “I seem to remember you saying that your story was the only one that could be relied upon for the truth.”

  “That was just to make it more exciting.”

  Marlene rolled her eyes. “Anyway, the bottom line is that no one really knows what happened that night. The mother, the father, and the little girl were found the next day by a neighbor. They were all dead by blows to the head with an object that was never identified. It looked like there had been some sort of struggle. They don’t think the family was surprised in their beds or anything. And it didn’t appear that they tried to get away.”

  “And it was the son, Paul, that did it,” David said.

  Marlene nodded. “That’s the logical conclusion. Paul disappeared that night and was never heard from again.” Marlene looked quickly through the articles she had brought. “There was a massive, tri-county manhunt for Paul, who was fifteen at the time, but no one ever found a trace of him.”

  Just then, the wind whistled through the fireplace in the living room, and there was a noise, like the fluttering of wings, from the top of the chimney. The strange sounds made everyone quiet for a moment.

  “I think, until Paul is found—if that ever happens, and it seems unlikely now—no one will ever really know what happened that night.” Marlene sat back down.

  “He did it, Marlene. Why else would he have disappeared? He’s probably living in Mexico now.” Peter’s face looked red even in the dimming light. “But we’re not here to tell true stories. Did you come up with anything besides your well-researched case history?” There was the hint of a sneer in Peter’s voice.

  Marlene shook her hair back off her shoulders. “Of course I came up with a story.” She grinned finally, looking around the room. “And I think you’re all going to like this one.”

  * * *

  “Chris and Cathy were twins who used to live in Summitville. They went to Summitville High, where everybody liked them, students and teachers alike. They were bright, pretty girls, and both were active in Thespians and the Glee Club.

  “The only thing that seemed a little strange about the twins was that they never—I repeat, never—did anything apart. If they dated, it was always a double date. If one had a certain schedule of classes, the other had it, too. Up until about eighth grade, they even dressed alike.

  “The winter of their junior year was a memorable one. That January the town saw the biggest snowfall in all the years that records had been kept.” Marlene looked over at Peter. “You can even look it up.”

  “Anyway, over the course of one night, almost two feet of snow fell. It continued snowing the next day. People were grateful that the snowfall started on a Friday night so that the disaster, or whatever you want to call it, hit on a weekend when it wouldn’t be too disruptive.”

  “Cut to the chase,” David whispered. “This is getting boring. Fun with weather facts.”

  Marlene ignored him. “Anyway, two people, in particular, were not happy the snow fell during the weekend. Chris and Cathy had been waiting for weeks to go to a party on that particular Saturday night, a party that two brothers were giving. Fortune, and perhaps the twins’ own need to do everything together, had smiled on them and had made both girls attracted to the boys. In fact, Chris liked the older one, a senior; Cathy was interested in the younger one, a boy in their own class named Josh.

  “But the twins’ parents said no way to the party, even if the boys were still planning on having it. The roads were too slippery. All the girls had to do, their mother had said with a serious tone in her voice that could only be matched by the frown on her face, was to listen to the radio, or turn on the TV. Almost constant bulletins warned about the ice, the snow, and the low visibility. They all had one message in common: stay off the roads, travel only if it’s necessary.

  “The twins retired to their bedroom after dinner, hurt and sulking.

  “Their parents tried to be sympathetic, understanding how disappointed the girls were, but knowing that there would be other parties for their daughters. They decided to leave the girls alone.

  “Which was just fine with Chris and Cathy, who had no intention of missing the party, one of the biggest bashes of the year. Once they were behind the door of their bedroom, they tossed off their frowns and attitudes like yesterday’s underwear.”

  “Good one!” Erin shouted.

  Marlene grinned and went on. “They knew a shortcut to the party that made the use of a car completely unnecessary. Right behind their house were woods. The girls, naturally, had gotten to know this thick stand of trees very well over the years. In fact, all the neighborhood kids had played there, hung out, b
uilt forts and just, in general, did things kids do. But the best thing about these woods was the fact that they led into the subdivision of the house where the party would be. The girls knew they could slip out their bedroom window—which faced the forest—go to the party, and come back later that same night.

  “They felt they had a good chance of getting away with it, too. They were certain their mom and dad wouldn’t want to bother them while they sulked and were in bad moods.

  “They dressed for the party, did each other’s make-up and hair, then bundled up for the cold, snowy walk ahead of them. The last thing they did before leaving was to turn on their TV set.

  “They giggled and climbed out the window.”

  “So what happened? They get murdered at the party or somethin’?” Roy leaned toward Marlene.

  “No. The party was a great success. Chris and Cathy managed to get their respective beaus alone for a while, and each knew she was on the verge of something steady.

  “It was a magical night. But the girls realized they would have to be getting home in time for their parents to tell them to shut off the TV before bedtime.

  “They set out into the darkness. The snow had stopped falling. It was one of those winter nights when it was so cold the air was like glass. It broke when you breathed it in. Only a few clouds drifted across the night sky, occasionally obscuring a full moon. Shifting patterns of light and darkness fell on the snow as the girls made their way carefully down the hill leading to the trees.

  “Once they’d made it into the forest, it didn’t really matter that the moon was full and that its light made everything silver. The heavy cover of pine trees turned almost everything pitch black. The forest was gloomy and freezing.

  “Suddenly, in the shadows and blackness, Chris and Cathy felt they were in a place they’d never been, like the woods had become foreign to them. Foreign and unwelcome.

  “The twins trudged on, listening to the sound of their footsteps crunching through the hardening snow. At first, it was kind of fun. The party had been great, the air was cold enough to be exhilarating, and the twins were just sure they had gotten away with something.

  “But it didn’t take long for the cold to seize them. The temperature had dropped to almost zero and what, moments ago, had felt refreshing and invigorating, was now painful. The twins shivered and held onto each other, stumbling through the darkness. The freezing air became like icy fingers, clawing its way through their clothes to get at their bare skin, almost burning them.

  “But the worst thing was, the girls weren’t coming out of the woods! They hadn’t exactly timed things, but from all their years playing there, they had a sense of how long it took to walk through the forest. And it seemed like a lot longer time than that had passed. The twins stopped for a moment, their breath fog in the air. It was almost too dark to see each other, but they knew that their eyes would be mirrors: wide with dread and horror.

  “‘What are we gonna do?’ Chris whispered to her twin, her teeth chattering.

  “Cathy didn’t bother responding. Both knew that neither had an answer. They had been so good all of their lives and this one time, when they had done something marginal, it seemed some dark, chilling force was punishing them.

  “There was no need for words. Each sensed what the other was thinking: they had to keep moving, to get out of there. Both became fully aware, for perhaps the first time in their lives, how dangerous the cold could be. Their extremities began to numb; painful tingling crept throughout their bodies. It hurt when they breathed in too deep, a burning sensation in their lungs.

  “The girls had learned in their science classes about the effects of hypothermia and how quickly one could be harmed, or even die, from too much exposure to the cold. Up until this point, that information had seemed no more than words on a page, to be memorized for an exam. Now, the fear of hypothermia became horrifyingly real.

  “The twins were not finding their way out of the forest. The more determined they became, the faster they moved, the deeper they seemed to be driven into the darkness. A wind had kicked up and the girls knew that because of its gusts, the temperature was dropping still lower.

  They felt trapped. All they could see were the trees near their faces. Beyond these, everything fell away into a blackness that seemed to have no substance.

  “And then they realized they were not alone.

  “Chris was the first to see it. She gasped. For several moments, she couldn’t reign in her terrified thoughts enough to form words to warn her sister. What she saw was so strange, it didn’t occur to her that words could be helpful.

  “A pair of feet stuck out from under a growth of bushes. Chris covered her mouth with her hands and stared down at the dark feet, standing there so still. What would someone be doing in the woods on a night like this…standing unmoving…watching them…and waiting? Grabbing her sister’s arm, she stopped and pointed down at the feet.

  “When Cathy looked down, she seemed just as terrified as her sister. The twins struggled to see each other in the darkness, to make contact with each other’s eyes, each seeking out the other for an explanation neither had.

  “The feet didn’t move. (It was too dark to tell what kind of shoes this person wore.) It was this lack of movement that probably frightened Chris and Cathy the most.

  “Why was this person just standing there, not coming out to talk to them?

  “Cathy was the braver of the two, and in spite of her sister trying to pull her back, she approached the bushes.

  “‘Who’s back there?’ she said, in the boldest, loudest voice her shivering mouth could muster.

  “The wind shrieking through the treetops was the only reply.

  “‘Let’s go,’ Chris begged. ‘Let’s just get away.’

  “‘I wish we could,’ Cathy whispered. She turned back to the bushes. ‘Please, you’re scaring us. Won’t you come out and help us? We’ve gotten lost.’

  “Silence. Now the girls could see the top of a head behind the bushes—a mop of dark hair almost blending into the night.

  “They sensed that it was probably a woman standing so still in the forest…a very tall woman, but a woman, nevertheless. It made them feel less afraid.

  “Chris realized that they needed to resolve this somehow. She was beginning to feel so tired, as if, even with the bitter wind and the thigh-high banks of snow, she could lie down right there, close her eyes, and drift off. Sleep beckoned and she knew that if they didn’t find their way out of the woods soon, they might never make it. Perhaps this thing in the trees could help them, make it easier to deal with the situation they were in.

  “Cathy took a quivering breath and approached the bushes.

  ‘Careful!’ her sister cried out.

  “Cathy lifted her mitten-clad hand and with one motion, drew back a fistful of branches.

  “She stood for a moment, stock-still and unable to breathe. And then she screamed. Her cry joined the wind, which had become even stronger, carrying with it the first flakes of snow. Her sister came up behind her, bracing her hands on Cathy’s shoulders and she, too, screamed.

  “A woman did, indeed, stand behind the bush. Her long black hair in wild disarray, she wore a tattered, oversized coat over a form that seemed at once monstrous and almost skeletal. Thin arms poked out of the sleeves of the bulky jacket she wore.

  “But the most horrifying thing of all was the fact that the woman, if such a creature could be called a woman, had no face. All that stared back at the girls was an ashen white expanse of smooth skin, unbroken by eyes, nose, or lips.

  “The girls, clinging to one another, fell back. The snow cushioned their fall and darkness drew a quick coverlet over them.

  “There was no sound, save for the wind in the trees.

  “The next morning, one of the boys from the party found them. They lay together on the snow, in each other’s arms like lovers. Their skin was bright red, dusted with snow. They seemed almost peaceful, lying there dead.

&n
bsp; “They weren’t far at all from the house where the party had been held. In fact, the boys had been in the woods the afternoon before, building a snowman. One of the boys had, on a whim, run back into the house and brought out one of his mother’s old wigs to top off the snowman’s head. For the feet, he had dug up a pair of his mother’s snow boots.

  “The snowman looked insane, standing there over the girls, almost like a guard.”

  * * *

  Marlene looked around at the group, knowing that the story she had worked so hard on all week had had the desired effect. They were all rapt, silent, thinking over the story she had spent every night writing, rewriting, and memorizing.

  “Gee Marlene,” Erin said. “That was good. Almost too good.” She leaned closer to Roy, who slipped his arm around her. She let it rest there.

  “Thanks,” Marlene said, studying the dust on the hardwood floor. “It’s getting dark outside. Maybe we should be getting back.”

  Was it the story she had just told that chilled Marlene or the still-present feeling that she was being watched? She didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out. She stood. “C’mon, you guys. This is my meeting, and I say it’s adjourned.”

  The little group trouped out of the house.

  * * *

  Not a bad story for a high school girl, not bad at all. I watch them file out of the house, one by one, slowly. They are all affected by the girl with the frizzy hair’s story. And why not? Tales of being scared out of your wits by things that are not what they appear to be make sense as horror stories. Believe me, I know.

  I watch from the radiator grate in the upstairs floor. Their heads look small from up here, just the size to grab and hold, like bowling balls. I imagine my cool touch caressing each of those heads, running my fingers through their hair. But I shouldn’t let myself go to such places. I am a solitary creature and want to keep it that way.

  How long will this little club continue? How long before I can have my peace back? Will they tire of their silly game before I do?