Barbara Michaels - The Walker in Shadows

Kathy snatched up a handful of garments and vanished into the bathroom. Ignoring the increasing fusillade of knocks, Josef sat down on the bed. Pat was still groggy; his kiss caught her unawares, and for a few moments after that she didn't even hear the knocking.

"You look gorgeous in the morning," he said, his hands on her shoulders.

"You're either blind or a liar or-"

"In love," said Josef against her ear.

"Don't do that. What if one of the kids-"

"They'll have to get used to it eventually," Josef said. His warm breath moved across her cheek and mingled with hers. Pat wondered briefly how he had acquired such skills in a loveless marriage with a frigid wife. She decided she didn't care.

Finally she freed her mouth, fighting her own instincts as well as his, and pushed him away.

"How can you be so frivolous at a time like this?"

"I must have undeveloped talents for frivolity," Josef said, smiling. "I feel drunk. No, I feel better than that. Getting drunk is no fun."

"You'd better let Mark in before he kicks the door down."

"Mark." Josef's smile vanished. "That's right, I have something to say to that young man."

There was a decided swagger in his walk as he crossed the room. Pat pushed a pillow under her back and watched him with lazy amusement. No doubt she ought to inquire why he was annoyed with Mark, but at that moment she was inclined to let them fight it out. Like Josef, she felt slightly drunk. No; it was much better than being drunk…

Josef opened the door. Ruffled and red-faced, Mark stalked in, and Pat's suppressed amusement surfaced in a weird gurgle as her son's suspicious gaze moved from Josef's face to hers.

"What took you so long? What were you doing?"

"I sent Kathy in to dress before I opened the door," Josef said blandly. "Just because we are in an abnormal situation doesn't mean we can lose sight of all the proprieties." Unappeased, Mark continued to glower at him, and Josef went on, "Speaking of proprieties, I'd appreciate it if you would return my car keys. One can hardly speak of theft among friends, but it wasn't kosher, was it, to borrow the car without asking me?"

Pat sat up in bed.

"Mark! Did you really?"

"Mom, you aren't dressed," Mark said.

"Stop trying to change the subject. Did you take-"

"I just wanted to check on poor old Jud," Mark said in injured tones. "I figured you would all get mad if I suggested it, so…"

He handed Josef the keys. The latter inspected them.

"How are the fenders?" he inquired.

"Not a scratch," Mark replied indignantly.

"Hmmm. All right, sport. Let's get some breakfast. The ladies will join us in-"

"Fifteen minutes," Pat said.

She didn't want to lecture Mark in front of Josef. He felt enough hostility already. But she promised herself that she would have a few words to say to him when they were alone.

She knew she was hooked when she found herself hurrying to dress, in order to see Josef a little sooner. Like a high-school girl, she thought, banging her head with her brush in her haste. But it's nice. It feels good. And when she and Kathy entered the dining room, she was surprised to see that the sky outside was dark with rain. She felt like sunshine.

Josef's behavior was sophomorically infatuated. He tried to hold her hand under the table, and the way he looked at her would have been a dead giveaway if anyone had been watching.

But Mark wasn't watching. When he had finished his breakfast he sat staring vacantly at his plate. Pat offered him her toast, and he refused. Then she really got worried.

"What did you say to him?" she hissed at Josef.

He shook his head. "Not much. I'm saving it."

"He's up to something," Pat said aloud. "Mark." She nudged his elbow, which was inelegantly propped on the table. "Mark, wake up."

"Huh?" Mark started. His mother, studying him with undivided attention for the first time that morning, saw the telltale signs. "Did you get any sleep last night?" she demanded. "What were you doing?"

"Working," Mark said. "Thinking."

"That's work," Josef agreed. He exchanged glances with Pat, and some of her suspicions must have slipped into his mind. "What else did you do last night, Mark? Did you really go back to the house?"

"We better leave," Mark said hastily. "Poor old Jud must be about ready to burst. I mean-"

"So you didn't go to the house," Pat exclaimed. "Where-"

But Mark was halfway to the door, and by the time Josef had paid the check, he had vanished into his own room and closed the door.

"We may as well check out," Josef said resignedly. "When we get him home I'll string him up by his thumbs and ask him again. I don't want to make a scene here in public."

True to his promise, he said nothing during the drive. Mark was in a peculiar state, mumbling under his breath, squirming and twitching, and once, to his mother's consternation, bursting into a hoarse, sardonic laugh. Seeing Pat's alarm, Kathy patted her hand.

"It's all right, Mrs. Robbins. He's got an idea, that's all."

"If it affects him that way, he'd better give up intellectual activities," said her father, from the front seat.

"Do you know what the idea is?" Pat asked.

"Well…" Kathy looked as sly as it was possible for her to look. "I promised I wouldn't talk about it till he has it all worked out. If it does-we might have this whole thing settled by tonight. Wouldn't that be great?"

"Uh-huh," Pat said. She wished she shared Kathy's faith in Mark. She did not express her doubts; why should she destroy the girl's optimism prematurely?

Never before, even when it was ramshackle and abandoned, had her house looked anything but innocent to Pat. Now, under an evil, threatening sky, it had a sinister air. The turrets and tower seemed grotesque instead of charming.

Mark led the way. He went straight to the kitchen and Pat heard Jud's yelp of pleasure mixed with reproach as Mark greeted him and let him out. Standing in the hall she sniffed, wrinkling her nose; but there was no trace of that foul aroma. That did not prove that the night had been quiet. The aura was not a physical smell, it probably worked directly on the mind of the person affected.

She lingered by the door, oddly reluctant to go farther. As she stood there, the bushes by the steps rustled. Albert's neatly marked head emerged. He eyed her dubiously for a moment and then meowed.

"I called you last night," Pat said defensively. "It's your own fault if you didn't want to come in."

Mark and Kathy went upstairs. Josef was obviously torn between curiosity and another emotion, but there was no real conflict; he turned to Pat, who was still arguing with the cat.

"Don't come in, then, if you don't want to. But you'll have to make up your mind. I won't leave the door wide open."

The cat took two tentative steps toward her, its tail at half-mast and twitching. Then it spat and bolted into the shrubbery.

"He is acting strangely," Pat said. "I wonder…" Then she heard Mark call from upstairs. "Mom. Mr. Friedrichs. Can you come up here, please?"

The trail of destruction had left debris as far down as the stair landing, where shards of a broken vase glittered. A dent in the plaster showed where it had struck and shattered. The upper hall was strewn with broken glass from pictures. Every one of them had been torn from the wall. Mark's room had taken the brunt of the attack. There was hardly a breakable object left intact, including his camera; but none of the other upstairs rooms had completely escaped. It was as if some large savage animal had been let loose and had ranged up and down, searching and smashing.

I thought you said Peter had given up aimless poltergeist action," Josef remarked, as they stood in the doorway of Mark's room contemplating the mess.