3
Ben was halfway through the bottle when his phone had begun ringing.
There was an accident!
Ellen had filled him in about what’d happened. The babysitter must’ve fallen asleep with a cigarette in her hand. He’d never liked her much, but he wouldn’t have wished it on her. Then he thought that he was being too easy on her, she could’ve burned Johnny, too.
Would that be such a terrible thing?
Ben pushed that thought from his mind, he wasn’t evil. Even if he and Johnny didn’t get on, it didn’t mean they couldn’t learn to love each other. Weren’t there mothers out there that hated their children for years after the birth? Maybe he was just going through the same kind of thing.
“Ben, you still there?” Ellen’s voice brought him back out of the daydream.
“Is there much damage to the house?” Ben stifled a hiccup.
“House, are you kidding me? She’s dead and you ask about the house! They both could’ve died, do you even care?”
“Look, I’m sorry about your friend, Ellen. I really am, but,” he stifled another hiccup.
“Keep your fucking apologies, Ben. I just thought you should know,” she paused, “and Ben?”
“Hmm?”
“I know you’ve been drinking, we need to talk when you get home.”
Then she hung up.
He looked at the phone and dropped it onto the floor. Lifting the bottle, he swallowed some back and collapsed onto the bed.
Unconsciousness came to him swiftly.
An image of a fire floated through his mind’s eye. The logs crackled in the open range, the flames were reflected in the welling tears building in Ellen’s eyes.
Ben stood up and took a step towards the door.
“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it!” there was mascara running down her cheeks now.
Ben thought about wiping it off, but decided not to. Instead, he balled his fists. “We’ve never talked about it. I know you’re hurting, I can see it. You have to stop pushing me away, Ellen.”
He shook his head, “Look, I’m just telling you that I’m here to listen, nothing is going to change. I want you to know you can trust me.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it!”
“That’s fine, Ellen. But I need to go for a walk.” He stopped at the door; his hand hovered over the handle.
Ben turned back and looked her into the eye, he thought of saying something, something reassuring, not wanting to leave just yet, but the right words didn’t come to mind.
He decided that it would be better to say nothing than the wrong thing, so he walked over and grabbed his jacket.
Ellen stared into the fire.
He turned and walked towards the door.
“Wait, I want to tell you, I just don’t want you to think differently about me,” Ellen dabbed her eyes with her sleeve.
He turned back and saw the hurricane of emotion spiraling behind her eyes.
“It was my twenty-first birthday, well something happened. It was near the end of the party, I’d had a lot to drink, I mean a lot, so I went to my room to lie down for a while, to try sober up, clear my head.”
Ben waited for her to continue. She cleared her throat and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, taking a deep breath.
“It was after I’d gotten into bed, everything was spinning. I remember my dad’s friend came into the room. I couldn’t stop him Ben, I couldn’t even sit up! I kept telling him to stop, then I tried calling for help, but he put his hand over my mouth… the fucking bastard!”
She was silent for a long moment, before going on.
“Everyone said I should just have an abortion, my dad was furious when I decided to keep the baby. It’s not its fault after all, I thought. And now I have Johnny, that’s how I had him, I chose life Ben, understand?”
Ben took a step towards her, his face had gone blank. He felt a wave of bile try to push its way up. Ellen began to sob. He rushed over and held her, holding her until she’d fallen asleep.
As he sat there he felt sicker and sicker, until the feeling became so intense it threatened to spew out like a volcano.
* * *
Ben twisted in the bed and smelled the vomit. The room was spinning as he opened one eye. He tried to sit up, but just got a cramp in his back. As he tried to move his arms, he realized he was holding something.
Looking down at the blurry object in his hand, he remembered why he felt so sick, as the bottle of whiskey from the came into focus.
He lifted it up, a drop doused his lips. He let his head drop onto the wet pillow, and thought he saw something standing in the corner of his room, something black with green eyes that pierced through the shadows, but before he could figure out what it was, he fell back into the abyss.
* * *
Ben walked further into the dark hallway. He tried a light switch, but it didn’t work. Walking down towards the kitchen, the house creaked against the stormy wind outside.
He could see the trees swaying in the backyard through the kitchen window. Johnny was standing at the kitchen counter. He was facing away from Ben and seemed to be mixing something.
“Johnny, what are you up to?”
Ben walked closer. He noticed Johnny was stirring something into a bowl.
It was a bottle of rum.
Johnny opened the press under the counter. Reaching inside, he moved some tubs of detergent and empty cartons and pulled out a small white box. Ben thought he recognized it. Johnny put it onto the counter beside the bottle of rum. Ben stood closer, squinting to read the print to make sure.
It was labeled to Ellen Wells; it was a box of her sleeping pills.
Ben went to grab the box of pills, but his fingers passed through it as if it were a projection. A strong wave of dizziness passed over him, he wobbled on unsteady legs.
“What the..?” He tried grabbing the bottle of rum but the same thing happened.
Johnny opened the box of pills and took out one. Popping it open, he poured the powder into the bowl and then poured another two in after it.
He put the empty capsules back into the box and returned it to the press. Standing back up on the step, Johnny stirred the rum and powder together and then grabbed a bottle of cola from the fridge. He poured some in, stirring it together.
Putting down the spoon, he grabbed a glass from the press and poured the rum and coke into it.
Johnny turned and walked out of the kitchen, holding the glass. Ben followed him into the hallway, then into the living room, where he saw May sat on the couch.
She had the house phone in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Johnny put the glass of rum onto the table in front of her and picked up an empty one.
“Thank you sweetie,” she put the cigarette into the corner of her mouth and pinched his cheek.
Johnny walked out of the living room. Ben stared at May for a moment before following Johnny back into the kitchen.
He was beginning to sweat, the house felt like an oven.
Johnny walked out through the backdoor, closing it behind him. Ben tried to open the backdoor, but his hand passed through the handle.
“Damn it!”
He looked out through the window and saw Johnny walking down the garden, towards the trees at the back of the property.
Ben closed his eyes. Sweat dripped from his forehead onto his shirt. He took a deep breath as he stepped forwards.
When he opened his eyes, he was stood just outside the back door.
He ran down the garden after Johnny but couldn’t see him anywhere. In the woods the silence was crushing. That’s when something above him caught his eye.
Johnny was sat on a thick branch that was ten feet high in the air and had his back to Ben.
The rope swing Ben had made had been cut and was tied around Johnny’s neck.
Johnny turned around and looked at Ben with crooked smile.
“What’s wrong, Ben, are you afraid?”
Johnny threw back his head and let out a manic giggle, his voice was different, deeper, filled with darkness, and it made Ben’s skin crawl with icy pinpricks. Flames licked out from Johnny’s mouth and spread up his face, engulfing it.
The fire spread, down his neck and body and onto the rope. Johnny lurched forwards, falling and then jerking wildly as the rope went taught.
He swung back and forwards just above Ben, smiling down at him.
The tree he was hanging from burst into flames, knocking Ben backwards. Ben’s head landed on a rock and his vision went black.