Scraping the Bone: Ten Dark Tales Page 3

  Another hour passed.

  The phone rang twice as the minutes ticked by, but neither caller was her. First it had been a salesman, a fact he had known before answering due to the caller ID, the second one a wrong number.

  His nerves stood at attention.

  The silence was bad, but having the phone ring -- that sudden wonderful sound -- and it not being her was worse. Hearing the ring was like listening to the lottery numbers being drawn and having all of them correct but the last. In the end, due to the build up of excitement, and then the terrible letdown, it would have been better not to have any of the numbers at all.

  Ring dammit!

  The phone stayed silent, mocking him.

  She’s not going to call, the mean voice said.

  Yes she will, the nice one replied. She has the number.

  Laura did too.

  Laura.

  His mind drifted back a few years. At the time he had been working as a dishwasher and Laura was one of the waitresses. She had been beautiful. A real catch. One to have for all time. Yet it hadn’t worked.

  Tom never was sure what had gone wrong, though he had some theories. In the end, however, those theories didn’t matter. He had given her his number, yet she had never called, which meant something had gone wrong. Nothing would change that.

  Is the same thing going to happen tonight?

  No. She has the number. Everything’s fine. It’s going to work. She’s going to call.

  The mean voice did not reply. It didn’t need to. The silent phone was aggravating enough.

  Tom’s eyes drifted over to the wall clock and calculated how many hours had passed. Worry twisted his bowels. If she didn’t call soon she probably never would.

  Please call. You have the number. You have the phone. What else do you need?

  Nothing came to mind. It never did. Once again, if she failed to call, all he would have was theories on what had gone wrong. Those theories would never be proven. Once they didn’t call it was too dangerous to go and find out why.

  His eyes went from the clock to the small piece of paper sitting next to the phone. Her number was there, written neatly. He stared at if for a long time, but didn’t pick up the phone.

  After the last girl he had started writing down the cell phone numbers just in case everything worked yet they didn’t call. He always assumed they would be smart enough to see his number written on the piece of paper and make the call, but perhaps this was just wishful thinking. People weren’t always as bright as they sometimes seemed. It was also possible that their intelligence didn’t return with them. If that were the case, they probably wouldn’t pick up the phone if it rang and spend the rest of their days lying beneath the dirt.

  You should dig them up, see if it has worked, the mean voice said. They’re all waiting.

  Tom wondered if this was a lure to get him in trouble, or if the voice really thought they were alive again down there? His mind wanted to lean toward the latter, but feared the former. The mean voice was always getting him in trouble. It enjoyed watching him suffer at the hands of others, and had accomplished this many times in the past.

  The dog was a good example. One day while walking home from school he saw a puppy sitting in a car next to White Hen. Normally he would try his experiments on creatures that were completely isolated and would not be missed. That day, however, the mean voice said it could feel the power and that the dog would be the one. Tom had listened, and nearly gotten caught when the owner of the car came running out demanding to know what he was doing with his puppy.

  Tom got away that day, but barely, and in the end it hadn’t worked. The dog, like everything else since the fish, had remained lifeless once the last breath was choked from it.

  Another hour drifted away.

  Tom got up from his chair and stretched his legs. From his window he looked out at the graveyard behind his house. He wondered if he had ever called any up without knowing. What if it only happened in his sleep and that was the reason why he never could bring the animals or people back?

  His mind drifted into the past to when he was five years old. He had been sleeping when he brought his fish back to life. Many years had passed since that amazing experience yet he remembered it well. His mother had told him the fish was just sleeping and would probably be better in the morning. Tom, however, knew the truth and spent most of the night wishing the creature back to life. At some point he had drifted off too sleep. When he woke up his wish had come true. The fish was alive, its small golden body darting back and forth around the glass bowl. It was this experience that made him first wonder if he, like Jesus, could bring things back from the dead.

  Unfortunately, his power had only worked on the fish thus far, and only back when he was younger. Some weeks he had purposely forgotten to feed the small swimmer until it died, yet the next day it was always back, the oldest goldfish alive.

  Tonight would be different. The realization that he had been sleeping whenever the fish was brought back mixed with the reasoning that perhaps they didn’t know how to use the phone made him believe in the possibility that he had brought everyone back without knowing it. All this time he had been waiting for a phone call from the men and women he had taken, when really what he needed to do was go and dig them up. They weren’t going to call. Knowledge was lost once a person died. He would have to teach them everything over again.

  Or was that really the case? What if he dug up the body and someone happened to be walking by. Terrible things could happen if someone saw him out there fooling around with the dead. Worse, at some point someone might find out that he was responsible for their deaths, which wouldn’t be good. People didn’t believe in powers like that anymore, not even his mother. She had wanted to put him away once she found out about his experiments with the animals and had almost made it to the phone before Tom hit her over the head with the frying pan.

  He hadn’t meant to hit her so hard, or really to hit her at all. The fear of being locked up in a small white padded room had caused him to act irrationally. Unfortunately, he couldn’t take his actions back, but he could right the wrong once he learned how to bring people back from the dead.

  Time was running out, though. Talk of pulling the plug on his mother’s brain dead body was on the rise. The insurance money was running out and no one in his family could afford to keep the treatments going.

  Tom had no idea how long he would have once she died. Furthermore, he wouldn’t want to bring her back if her body was rotting away. What kind of life would that be? Could they do plastic surgery on a body that had already died?

  This was just one of the many mysteries he could not answer until he finally brought a person back from the dead.

  Exhaustion hit.

  Tom closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. In the morning he would go and dig up Nancy’s body and see if she was waiting for him. If not, he would try some of the others and see if they were. Until then, he would just rest and let the power work in whatever way it wanted. He was tired anyway. Hunting a person down and strangling them to death was quite the workout, especially when they fought so hard.

  The Other Side

  1 OFFLINE MESSAGE.

  Michael stared at the note as his computer finished booting up, his mind spinning. It had been over a month since Linda had spoken with him online and he had finally decided she no longer liked him. But now there was a message waiting, and he hadn’t contacted anyone else since Linda? Could the message be from her?

  Linda hadn’t been the first person to suddenly stop talking with Michael. In fact, the entire Internet dating scene had been one long string of disappointments. Five times he had made contact with girls that seemed just right for him, and five times they had talked for weeks and weeks until the girl eventually broke it off. They weren’t good breaks either. Everything would be going smoothly when all of the sudden no more messages would appear. Michael would send out messages but they would all be deleted or ignored. One minute he would be
excited that he had finally found someone to be his first girlfriend, the next he would realize he had been rejected, again.

  But maybe there had been a good reason for Linda’s lack of communication? Perhaps she had been out of town for a month and hadn’t been able to contact him? And now a message was waiting that would say something like: SORRY I’VE BEEN AWAY. I MISSED TALKING TO YOU. LET’S MEET FINALLY AND REALLY GET TO KNOW EACH OTHER. LINDA.

  The two had talked about meeting before she stopped messaging him, but nothing had materialized. Now, however, he had his hopes up.

  Michael clicked on the message. It wasn’t from Linda. Instead there was a picture of a beautiful young woman wearing nothing but a red bra and panties lying back on a bed, her face giving off a seductive smile. His insides tightened. Next to the picture was a message. HEY MICHAEL! I SAW YOUR PROFILE ON YAHOO PERSONALS AND THOUGHT YOU LOOKED SO!!!! HOT!!!! USUALLY I DON’T MAKE FIRST CONTACT BUT AFTER SEEING YOUR PROFILE I COULDN’T RESIST. HOPE YOU LIKE MY PICTURE. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA START TALKING. HUGS AND KISSES! MICHELLE.

  His fingers hovered over the keyboard for several seconds, unable to type. No girl had ever made first contact with him. That meant this time around would be different. She obviously wanted him and wouldn’t stop talking one day. It was everything he had been hoping for when he had first put his picture up online. He had finally found someone.

  * * *

  Nancy Thurman was surprised by her son’s joyful attitude that morning. Lately Michael had seemed depressed and spent most of his days locked in his room. No amount of prying would get the reason from him, but she had an idea that a girl was involved. For a while she had considered disconnecting his computer, which would force him from the bedroom. Her husband, however, had vetoed that idea. Michael was twenty two years old and had bought the computer on his own. The time of taking things away from their son was long gone and they had to allow him to live his life his own way. Nancy hadn’t agreed but respected her husband enough not to go about her plan. She had even kept the questions to herself when one afternoon Michael received a large box in the mail that bore a return address of a strange, almost sexual sounding, costume store.

  Now, during breakfast, she had more questions, but this time they were used to find out what had turned Michael around.

  “I got a message today from a girl that lives right here in town. She saw my picture and profile online and really wants to date me.”

  His excitement was obvious and this made Nancy happy. At the same time she had some reservations. She had never been comfortable with Internet dating. Something about it didn’t sit well with her. It was better to meet people out in the real world, not through the computer.

  “That’s great,” Nancy said. She hesitated. “Are you sure she’s for real though?” That didn’t sound right. “I mean, it isn’t someone trying to hurt you is it?”

  Frustration twisted around the excitement Nancy had been witnessing. “Mom,” Michael said. “How many times do I tell you, it’s not a bunch of freaks out there? The Internet is just a good way to break the ice. It’s like going to a club and knowing everyone there is unattached and wants to meet someone.”

  Nancy had heard this explanation before but she still didn’t like it. The Internet was just too filthy for someone to find happiness. If those girls couldn’t find a guy in the real world then something wasn’t right about them.

  * * *

  By nine that night Michael still hadn’t received a reply to the message he had sent back to Michelle and anxiety was beginning to set in. He told himself that the worry he felt was ridiculous because not everyone had access to the Internet twenty four seven like him, but it didn’t do much to calm his nerves.

  Two hours passed and there still was no reply. Michael sat at his desk waiting, his instant messenger ready. The messenger would tell him when he had an email, and would also allow him and Michelle to talk with each other over the Internet.

  Another hour passed without a message. During this time Michael turned his chair so he could watch TV. His mind could never settle into anything though. Each second that passed was a second toward that wonderful sound that he was waiting for -- the strange musical note that would echo from his computer speakers when he got an email.

  The sound never came.

  Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, until eventually Michael couldn’t take it any longer. He was too tired to stay up and wait for Michelle.

  * * *

  2 OFFLINE MESSAGES.

  Michael stared at the computer screen. The message had arrived ten minutes after he had called it quits. If he had only stayed up and on he would have been able to talk with her.

  He clicked on the first message.

  MICHAEL, YOU THERE? HELLO, MICHAEL? OKAY, GUESS NOT. I’LL TRY AGAIN IN A LITTLE WHILE. MICHELLE.

  Michelle’s picture was next to the message. Michael stared at it for several seconds. If she was this beautiful on screen what would she look like in real life? He couldn’t even begin to imagine.

  The second message had arrived twenty minutes later.

  WELL GUESS YOU’RE NOT COMING ON TONIGHT. I’M GLAD YOU LIKED MY PICTURE. CAN’T WAIT TO TALK WITH YOU AND . . . HEHE. WE SHOULD GET TOGETHER SOMETIME TOO. I’D LOVE TO MEET YOU. SEE YOU SOON, MICHELLE. PS. IF YOU LIKE THAT PICTURE I HAVE SOME OTHERS I THINK YOU’LL ENJOY.

  Michael quickly typed a message. It read: Sorry I wasn’t on. I fell asleep too early. Are you always on at the same time? Let me know. By the way, we live so close we could easily meet. Do you like going to Borders? That’s a good place to meet. I’ll treat you to a Latte if you like. Anyway, talk to you soon. Michael. PS: I would love to see the other pictures.

  * * *

  “That’s too bad,” Nancy said while scooping some scrambled eggs onto Michael’s plate. “You two should set up a certain time to talk, and let her know you don’t like staying up late.”

  Michael shrugged. “I don’t mind staying up late. If I’d known she’d be on at two thirty I would have waited.”

  “Two thirty?” Nancy hadn’t realized he had stayed up that late. “What’s she doing on the computer at two thirty?”

  “I don’t know. Some people don’t go on until it’s late.” He started eating his eggs.

  “Still, two thirty is pretty late. That’s when all the predators are probably out.” She took his glass and filled it with orange juice.

  “Actually the scary people are on during the day because that’s when they can talk with little kids. Being on late is safer.”

  Nancy didn’t like the fact that Michael had this knowledge. She hoped it was just a theory and not something he knew for sure. “You want anything else?”

  “No thanks.”

  * * *

  1 OFFLINE MESSAGE.

  Michael had tried so hard to stay up, but it had been no use. He had fallen asleep around ten twenty; a full two hours before Michelle had gone online.

  I’D LOVE TO MEET AND I LOVE BORDERS. LET’S GO THERE TOMORROW IF YOU CAN. SOMETIME IN THE AFTERNOON OKAY? LET ME KNOW. SORRY THAT WE KEEP MISSING EACH OTHER. I NEVER KNOW WHEN I’LL BE ONLINE. SEE YOU TOMORROW, MICHELLE. PS: HERE’S THOSE PICS I PROMISED. ENJOY.

  Michael clicked on the pictures and waited a minute while they downloaded. The first one came up. It was a picture of Michelle from the neck down. She wasn’t wearing any clothing. Her body was beautiful. The second picture was one of her in skirt and blouse, only the blouse was opened to reveal her breasts and the skirt lifted. It was more artsy than the first one and had a teasing quality that would grab any guy’s attention.

  There was a stirring in his testicles. Michael reached down and undid his pants. Five minutes later he stepped into the shower, a clean pair of underwear and pants waiting for him on his bed. While showering he wondered: If I can get so turned on by pictures of her, what would happen once we are alone together?

  * * *

  1 OFFLINE MESSAGE.

  It was five thirty in the morni
ng. Once again Michael had tried to stay up but failed. Once he had awakened that morning, however, he couldn’t get back to sleep due to the excitement of meeting Michelle that afternoon.

  The day before he had sent her a message that read: Is two o’clock okay? I’ll be waiting in the café area for you. By the way, I loved the pictures. Can’t wait to see the real thing. The only thing that would have made them better would have been your face in them. You are so beautiful. Have any good ones with your face in them too? See you at two, Michael.

  MICHAEL. TWO O’CLOCK IS PERFECT. I’LL BE THERE. I DO HAVE PICTURES WITH MY FACE BUT NONE OF THEM ARE NAKED ONES. I DON’T LIKE HAVING NAKED PICTURES WITH MY FACE OUT THERE. HERE ARE A FEW ‘SEXY’ ONES THOUGH. ENJOY. MICHELLE.

  Michael looked at the pictures. They were Michelle in different outfits, mostly underwear but some fantasy costumes as well. Each one seemed sexier than the previous and he actually liked them better than the nudity ones she had sent. Something about the hint of what was beneath the clothes was a big turn on.

  * * *

  Nancy was excited for Michael, but also a little nervous. Never before had he met someone from the Internet and she hoped everything turned out okay. Fear that this person was some strange demented old man who wanted a twenty two year old boy as a house pet wouldn’t leave her system. She wished Michael could have found girls in a more normal face-to-face way.

  Don’t worry, everything will be okay.

  Nancy took several deep breaths after thinking this and then went about cleaning the kitchen. While doing this she suddenly had a thought about Michael’s new girlfriend (or whatever she was?). What did she look like?

  She tried pushing the curiosity away, but couldn’t, and started toward his bedroom.

  * * *

  Michael was too nervous to sit down. Instead he paced the café area of Borders, his eyes always drifting toward the entrance.

  He had arrived ten minutes early for the meeting. That had been fifteen minutes ago. Now she was five minutes late. Each second that ticked by was horrifying. What if she didn’t show?