PHANTASM - The Novel

The morning was still cloudy and overcast as Mike arrived at the strange little house. Surrounded by gnarled old trees and overlaid with creeping vines, the place had an eerie quality that was enhanced by the old and peeling wooden sign with the red hand painted on it.

Mike knocked at the weather-beaten door, and soon Sarah was standing there looking at him. He couldn't understand why she made him feel so awkward whenever she looked at him, but she did. She was the same age as he was, but she seemed so much older. She acted as though she already knew everything worth knowing. But she was so beautiful. Her hair was like long gold shafts of sunlight. It reminded him of the fairy tale "Rapunzel." He would like to touch it, but, of course, he would never do that.

"Hi, Michael," she spoke as he stared at her face. Her eyes were fringed by thick black lashes, and on her cheek was tattooed a tiny blue star.

"Hi, uh, I need to talk to your grandmother," Mike stammered.

"Sure, come on in," and she led him through the doorway and parted some heavy hanging draperies through which they entered the fortuneteller's sanctum.

The room was lighted by dozens of flickering candles, all sizes and shapes. He often wondered how she kept from burning the old house down. The room was cluttered with all kinds of strange and wonderful paraphernalia. Mike had always wanted to poke through the stuff. There were old figures and pictures and strange jars and bottles filled with all kinds of peculiar things. The air was heavy with the smell of candle-smoke and incense.

As Mike stood in the room where he had sought advice so many times in the past year, Sarah walked over to her grandmother who was ensconced in an old wooden wheelchair. She was facing a small altar, thinking and conjuring.

"Grandmother, Michael is here again, and he wishes to speak with you," Sarah whispered as she moved the chair over to the table in the center of the room. Mike sat down across the red-velvet draped table from the two and stared at the crystal ball in front of them. He wondered if the answers to his problems could be found in that piece of glass.

Sarah sat down beside the ancient figure who sat quietly in her chair. Dressed in black with a lace shawl over her head, she stared sightlessly through tiny, opaque, gold-rimmed glasses. Her fingers were covered with rings, and numerous baubles and amulets were hung from her neck. In the center of her forehead was tattooed a tiny blue star identical to the one on Sarah's cheek.

Mike spoke to Sarah, "Uh...tell her..."

Sarah interrupted, "She can hear you, Michael."

"Yeah, sure, uh, it's Jody. I think he's going to leave," Mike struggled to say the dreaded words.

Sarah thought a moment, then put her head close to her grandmother's, and they seemed to talk, although Mike could hear nothing.

The young girl looked at him again and spoke, "Michael, Grandmother says not to worry. If Jody leaves, and she doesn't think he will, he'll take you with him."

Mike, wanting to believe her, but having difficulty, murmured, "God, I hope she's right."

Sarah retorted briskly, "She always is."

Mike continued, "There's something else. I was up at Morningside, and I saw something. Well, I didn't actually see it, but I felt it. It was like spirits or something."

"Spirits? What kind of spirits?" Sarah seemed extremely curious.

"I don't know, but they were there." And Michael proceeded to describe the strange happenings at the cemetery that morning. When he had finished his story, Sarah once more leaned close to her grandmother to confer, although again no words seemed to be spoken.

As Michael stared ahead thinking about his troubles, suddenly a black box materialized on the table before him. Shocked out of his reverie, he exclaimed, "Wow, how'd ya do that?"

"Michael, Grandmother wants to play a little game with you. Put your hand in the box."

Mike stared at the strange black box. It was oblong, about twelve inches long and six inches wide and high with a number of facets that gave it an odd shape. At one end there was a round hole facing him that was just large enough to fit his hand in.

"Why? What's in it?"

"Just put your hand in," she replied.

Seeing no reason not to comply, Mike inserted his hand. No sooner did his fingers pass the opening than something inside seemed to grab his hand and clutch it tightly. Mike screamed out in pain and surprise then began to struggle to free his hand. The more he tried to extricate himself from its grip, the tighter the box clamped onto his hand.

"Hey, let go...Goddammit...Gimme back my hand!" He was shouting at the box.

Sarah watched his contortions complacently, and then spoke, "Don't fear, Michael."

When he continued to fight the box and struggle to free himself, she spoke more forcefully, "Don't fear."

Her words finally reached him, and he relaxed. As he did so, he pulled his hand from the box with ease. As he massaged his fingers, he complained, "God, that really hurt."'

Sarah spoke dispassionately, "It was all in your mind. Grandmother wanted to teach you a lesson. Fear is the killer."

Mike got up to leave, then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled five-dollar bill which he set on top of the box. The box and the money disappeared. Mike stared for a moment, then turned and left.

When he was out the door, the old woman began to laugh, a high-pitched throaty cackle. As the sound trilled through the room, Sarah smiled and patted her arm. They were both very pleased with themselves.

Sarah's pleasure was somewhat diluted by a degree of pensiveness. Mike's story about Morningside had aroused the curiosity of this young girl whose life had been surrounded by the trappings of the supernatural. She decided she would go to Morningside and see for herself.

Mike returned home to find a sleepy Jody at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee. Myrtle was bustling around the kitchen fixing him something to eat and mumbling to herself.

"Hey, man, where ya been?"

"I had breakfast at Aunt Belle's, and then I took a ride on the bike out to Morningside."

"Morningside? What the hell for?" Jody asked.

"No reason, say, how about letting me drive the Cuda? There's a weird rattle in the exhaust. Maybe you can help me find it." Mike was anxious to steer the conversation away from Aunt Belle before Jody could confirm her remarks.

"Me? Hell, I don't know anything about engines. I just turn on the ignition, and if it works, I drive it."

"C'mon, Jody, I don't like to drive alone. If the sheriff sees me without you, you know he'll give me a hard time". Mike pleaded with him.

"O.K., why not. Myrtle, forget the eggs. Let's go down and buy some doughnuts."

The two left a grumbling Myrtle with the frying pan in her hand. She looked at them for a minute, plopped the eggs onto the plate, and shuffled over to the table to eat them herself. She wasn't one to let good food go to waste.

After buying a box of doughnuts, the two brothers returned to the house. Mike pulled up in the driveway, got out, and opened the hood. As he peered into the engine, a car drove up. Uninterested in the car's mechanical workings, Jody was delighted to see an old friend's car pull up. They greeted each other warmly.

"Toby", Jody exclaimed, "Man, it's been a long time. What brings you back to this town?"

Toby, a tall, nice-looking young man, spoke softly, "Tommy."

Jody's mood altered, "Yeah man, I don't get off on funerals. They give me the creeps."

Toby seemed surprised, "You're going, aren't you?"

Jody hesitated, then answered, "Sure. If you're going, why not. Say, did you ever get into med school?"

Toby, pleased to be asked, replied, "Sure did... but it wasn't easy. By the way, I was sure sorry to hear about your folks."

"Yeah, well, I guess you can just about get over anything in two years."

"I heard you were out on the road with the Stones. Is that true?"

Jody nodded with a smile, and Toby continued,

"Well, tell me, is it really all they say it is?"

"Yep--all--and more. Plenty of money--booze, chicks--dope---and lots of music."

"God, I'd think after all that action, this town would drive you nuts."

Mike, who had slipped under the car, ostensibly to work on it, was listening to every word. He held his breath waiting for Jody to answer.

"You're damn right," Jody exploded, then more softly he continued, "Now that the kid's thirteen, I'm thinkin' of sendin' him off to live with his aunt."

Under the car, Mike heard the words, and his insides congealed into cold jelly.

"..but, I tell you, he sure ain't gonna like it. As it is, he follows me everywhere. It's like he knows that I'm gonna leave him. He's a tough little kid. I love him. I'm gonna miss him."

Mike wanted to scream at him, "No you don't! You couldn't leave me if you really loved me." But deep inside him, he knew that Jody did love him, but just as surely, he would leave. He always knew he would.

Jody resumed his natural voice level as he called to Mike, "Hey Mike, c'mon out and take a look at this guy's car. I think he needs a tune-up." Mike pulled himself from under the Cuda and stood up. He walked past the perfidious Jody. He tried to keep his face impassive, but the moroseness that filled him inside spilled over, and he looked pathetically sad.

Toby watched him closely as he proceeded toward them, and he realized that Michael had heard Jody's thoughtless words. Jody too was aware of Mike's-crestfallen demeanor, and he tried to cover it with a gush of compliments, "You know, Toby, Mike can drive my car better than I can. He's a real knucklebuster...a mechanical genius. He loves to mess around with engines...."

But no one was listening. Neither was Jody.

Jody awakened early the morning of Tommy's funeral. Dressing carefully in his hand-tailored blue suit, he was pleased with his appearance in the bedroom mirror.

Since it was early, he decided to drop in at the bank. He needed some money again, and he wanted to talk to George Norby. Besides, Suzy would enjoy seeing him in his suit for a change.

Putting a last touch on his hair with the brush, he walked softly down the hall to Mike's room He opened the door, but Mike was sound asleep. Jody was pleased that for once he'd get out of the house without his brother following him

He left the house and got in the car. After surveying the clouds, he thought to himself, "What a shitty day for a funeral - poor Tommy." But he soon dismissed it from his mind. He wasn't one to dwell on sad thoughts, and he certainly didn't want to be confused with complex ones, like death and suicide.

Driving down to the bank he thought about Suzy. She was a real fox, but a little too anxious to make the altar trip. He was going to have to cool it with her.

He walked into the bank, stopped at the new accounts area and flashed a smile at the two middle-aged women who were looking his way. "Good morning, ladies," he greeted them with a dazzling smile.

Mrs. Gillespie, an aging but not unattractive woman, smiled back, "Good morning, Jody."

Mrs. Martin also smiled brightly, "Jody, I swear you look more like your father every day."

Jody laughed, "It's the suit, I'm afraid."

Mrs. Gillespie looked sad, "You know we still miss him. He was such a wonderful man."

"Well, Jody, what brings you here today?" It was Mr. Norby, looking apprehensive as he always did when Jody appeared in the bank.

"Oh hello. Well, as a matter of fact, I would like to speak with you, George. Let's go into my office," Jody replied.

The two men walked through a door marked "Jody Pearson" and into a large, well-appointed room. There was a thick, dark brown rug on the floor, and a massive walnut desk dominated the room. Jody walked to the desk and seated himself behind it in the large black, leather chair. There were no papers or any sign of work in the office.

"Have a seat," Jody indicated the chair opposite the desk.

George sat down on the edge of the chair, wondering what Jody was up to now. At first, he'd been in the bank constantly for money, but that had tapered off the past few months. In fact, Jody and Michael had been living rather conservatively.

"George, don't you think I look a little ridiculous sitting here?" Jody asked.

Flustered, George had difficulty answering, but finally managed an unconvincing, "Why...no."

"C'mon, don't lie. I do look ridiculous, even in this suit....so, let's change places." Jody arose and walked around the desk and stood over George who seemed glued to his chair.

"Get up!" Jody ordered. Norby stood up and went over to Jody's chair and tentatively lowered himself into it.

Jody sat down in the chair George had just vacated. "There, that's the way it should be. I never wanted to be head of this place. Never. And I still don't. Dad's death hasn't changed anything. So from now on, George, you're the president. You're completely in charge."

George couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Why, Jody, I don't know what to say!"

"My father had confidence in you, and so do I. Have the lawyer draw up all the necessary papers. You'll be in charge until Mike's old enough. Then, you'll have to make arrangements with him. Maybe he'll want to run this place, but I don't think so. He's more into science and mechanics and stuff. But he has to make his own decisions. Nobody's going to tell him what to do."

Jody had grown thoughtful, and George was overwhelmed, "Jody, you'll never regret this decision. I promise you."

"...and by the way, when the lawyer arranges things, be sure you get a raise. The president of a bank needs more money, and you should have some part of ownership. God knows there's more money than Mike and I need. Besides, if it's partly yours, you'll have a reason to make it even more successful, right?" Jody asked.

"Right, uh...Of course, but I'd do that anyway," George answered, "How soon do you want this done?"

"Right away. You're in charge now, today, officially. Although you've really had the responsibility since Dad died...and I know if I wasn't here, you'd take care of Mike's interests too."

"Jody, are you planning to leave?" George was curious.

Jody smiled, "Sometime, but who knows when?"

George arose, "Well, I'd better get busy. There'll be a lot of arrangements to make. " He walked around the desk and put out his hand. Jody stood up and took his. "Thanks, Jody," and Jody replied, "Just doin' what's right."

As George started through the door, Jody stopped him. "Say, one last thing. Have Suzy come in for a minute, O.K.?" George smiled, shook his head in assent, and left.

Jody walked back to the desk and settled down once more in the big leather chair. He popped open the lid of the humidor and pulled out one of those big fat Cubans his father had so loved. He lit it, then settled back with his feet up on the desk. Suzy peeked around the door.

"I heard you wanted to play secretary," she whispered.

"Come right in, Miss Eliot. I need to make a small deposit. "

Suzy closed the door behind her then bounded across the room and without hesitating settled herself on his lap.

She was a tall, leggy blond with tanned skin, and thick, dark blonde hair which fell across his face as she leaned down to kiss him. Her lips were moist and warm and signaled that she was ready for anything. Jody's hand crept up under her skirt and into her crevice. She was ready there too.

"Hey, you haven't got any panties on," Jody looked at her in surprise.

"I did have, but I went in the ladies' room and took them off when you came in. Do you realize how sexy you look?" She continued to fondle him and began tugging at the zipper on his pants.

"It's the suits. I should wear it more often," he murmured into her open mouth.

"That's not my favorite suit," she whispered as her tongue flicked in and out of his ear.

"It's the only one I have," he pulled back from her mouth to look into her incredible dark brown eyes.

"No, it's not. I'd like to see you in your birthday suit," she giggled.

'You've never seen me in that?" he asked in surprise.

"No, we're always in the damn car!"

The spell broken, Jody lifted her by the waist off his lap. He stood up and zipped his fly.

Shocked at his apparent rejection of her, Suzy retaliated.

"And I'm sick of it. That's all we do. Go for a drive, park, drink a few beers, then a fast fuck, and you take me home. We haven't even gone to a movie for weeks."

Jody was straightening his tie. He smoothed his hair and wiped the lipstick from his face.

"Yeah, well, you always have that dumb fart Bobbie Wilkerson. He's hot for your body. Why don't you get him to take you to the movies?"

Suzy was at the door, angry and ready to cry, "Maybe I will...maybe I just will!" She walked out the door and slammed it shut.

Jody looked down to see if his erection was down enough to walk through the bank.

Wearing a white dress and carrying a bouquet of flowers, Sarah entered the gates to Morningside just behind Jody's car which roared into the cemetery grounds.

Uncomfortable at the thought of the coming ordeal, Jody was in a hurry to get it over and done with as soon as possible. He parked the car, then walked toward the chapel. A wave of guilt swept over him as he realized that he had not visited his parents since the day they had been entombed there two years ago.

As he stood outside the huge, forbidding white building that housed the mortuary and mausoleum, Reggie walked up to him.

"I can't believe he's dead...that he killed himself..." Reggie said, his reddened eyes hidden by dark glasses. "...a Helluva way to end a trio."

They stood for a moment in silence, then Jody headed for the mausoleum, "I gotta visit somebody. Catch you inside," he mumbled as he moved away.

Jody was dressed in a handsomely tailored dark blue suit and vest. It was a far cry from his usual baggy jeans and hiking boots, and he looked like the image of the banker's son that he had rejected years ago.

He walked down the long marble halls that were lined with crypts and statues. He finally found what he was seeking, and he stooped down and touched the bronze plate on the crypt there his father and mother had been laid to rest two years before.

His fingers brushed the dust from the name Jody Pearson, Sr. as the son spoke in his mind to his dead father,

"God, Dad, I'm sorry. I wish we could have another chance."

He stayed there for a few moments, his mind filled with the memories of his father, then he straightened up and was about to leave. He heard a short rasping noise. He looked around, but he saw nothing. Slowly, he walked down the corridor, listening for the sound again. He turned into another marble corridor of tombs, but still there was nothing unusual. He stood there quietly wondering where the strange sound had come from. Suddenly, he was startled as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. He whirled around to find himself looking up at a tall man in a black suit. The man spoke to him coldly, but his voice had a touch of malice. "The funeral is about to begin, Sir"' The man's cold dark eyes speared him, and his face seemed to be carved out of wax.

Jody instinctively retreated from his touch and backed away. "OK, Sir." Although he had tried to reply with a touch of sarcasm, he just couldn't pull it off. The guy had scared the shit out of him, and he decided to get out of the place as fast as he could.

He entered the chapel to see the friends and family of his dead buddy sitting silently, mourning as the organ music spilled out of the pipes majestically. He took his place beside Reggie, Toby, and the other pallbearers just as the service began.

It was a difficult funeral for everyone. Tommy had killed himself in a bloody, painful way, and no one had any idea why. As Jody walked up to the open casket, his thoughts were dominated by the suicide itself, and as he looked at the peaceful, young face covered with mortician's make-up, he wondered how much they'd had to patch up the wounds. Did they use tape? Or did they sew him up? He couldn't seem to shake off the morbid speculations.

Outside, where he had secreted himself in a clump of bushes, Mike lay waiting for Jody to come out of the chapel. He had chosen the spot because he had a good view of the chapel doors and also the open grave where Tommy would be buried. He hadn't wanted to go to the funeral, but he became suspicious when Jody had refused to allow him to attend. Although he suspected that Jody was just trying to spare him a morbid experience, Mike was now not about to trust any of Jody's motives.

The wait seemed excruciatingly long, for it was cold, and rain had started to fall. Mike had to lie on the damp ground so he could not be seen. He was miserable. He tried to talk himself into leaving. It was stupid to keep following Jody. If he was going to leave, Mike couldn't stop him. He knew all this, and he cursed himself for being unable to stop. He was like a junkie. The pull to be with Jody at all times was so strong, it could easily override any logical thought or action.

He heard something. They were coming. Lifting his binoculars to he eyes, he watched as Jody and five other young men struggled to lift the heavy coffin from the hearse and carry it to the open grave. The ground was wet, and they moved slowly, finally setting the heavy casket on top of the straps stretched over the hole where it would be lowered after the mourners had gone.

The graveside service was brief. Only a few people had braved the rain and the mud to see Tommy reach his last resting place. The minister said a few brief prayers, and the group hurriedly dispersed, anxious to leave the dead and return to the living.

Mike alone stayed. The emergence of the tall man in the sight of his binoculars struck a chord of fear in his body that he could not still. Fascinated, he almost forgot that he had come to watch his brother, and he concentrated on watching the man who terrified him so unreasonably.

As Mike watched the mourners leave, he saw the tall man remain. When he was completely alone, he opened the rear door of the black and white hearse. He then strode over to the flower-laden casket, and stooping down, he wrapped his long, skinny arms around it and lifted it with no apparent effort. He slipped it back into the hearse and closed the door. Looking around once more to ascertain that he was alone, he got in the vehicle and drove off.

Astounded, Mike lowered the glasses from his eyes. He saw how heavy the thing had been for six, strong, young men to carry, and this skinny guy had lifted it alone...and with ease.

"What the fuck?" he gasped.

Inside the mausoleum, Sarah was concluding her search for the spirits Mike had talked about. She had seen nothing nor experienced any particular phenomena. At last she came upon a closed door at the end of one of the corridors of crypts. As she approached it, she began to sense unusual vibrations. There was something here. She surveyed the black, paneled door. Mounted above it was a large bas relief sculpture of a group of Greek heads, all staring menacingly in one direction The sensation became stronger, and as she placed her hand on the knob, she felt a thrill of discovery. She opened the door and was illuminated by a blinding, white light that streamed from the room.

Outside, Jody and Reggie drove past the mausoleum on their way home, but the growl of the Cuda's engine masked the sound of Sarah's screams.

Mike lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, trying to sort out the things that he had seen the past few days. On the wall over his bed was a huge mural photograph of the earth that was taken by an astronaut from the moon. Suspended over his head was a remote control airplane. He looked around at all his things-the skis, the guitar, almost everything had been bought for him by Jody in the last two years.

Money was no problem. There was plenty of it. At first, Jody seemed to enjoy spending it, but now even that seemed to bore him. His only luxury was that Mexican beer, and he seemed to buy an awful lot of it. Myrtle was always complaining about the empty bottles he left strewn all over the house.

Mike listened as Jody's voice floated up through his window. He had his Stratocaster and amp out on the front porch, and he was singing one of the songs he had written recently. Mike realized that hearing him sing always brought on a gloomy depression. When Jody was involved with his music, he shut out the world and everyone in it, including his brother.

A truck door slammed, and soon Mike heard another voice and guitar join Jody's. Reggie had arrived, and the two were making music together. Mike got up from the bed and walked over to the window The song was finished, and they were talking softly. Mike strained to hear what was being said.

"Man, that was a bad trip at that cemetery this morning. I'm sure glad it's over, " Reggie commented.

Jody sat for a moment staring down, then he said, "Let's forget it, man. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Reggie began humming and picking at his guitar. Then Jody spoke, "Reg. help me....I can't stand it here any longer....I want to leave this town, but I know what it will do to Mike if I go." Reggie nodded his head sympathetically, but he had no advice to offer. Jody continued with his lament, "It's gonna kill him if I leave...and it's gonna kill me if I don't."

As Jody struggled with his problem, Reggie went back to plucking the strings of his guitar again.

"l don't know, Jody. Every man's got a right to do what he wants with his life. You've just got to make a decision and then live with it."

"Yeah, I know, but can I make it doin' what I want to do, knowin' it will make him miserable."

Jody paused, then went on, "He doesn't really need me. Sometimes he makes me feel like his little brother. But the trouble is, he thinks he needs me....and he's scared of being left alone."

Reggie just shook his head and pulled the tuning fork, which he always carried, from his shirt pocket. He struck it easily on the bench. As it began its whining vibrations, he touched the base of it to the body of his guitar. After listening for a moment he placed two fingers, one on each prong of the fork, and the vibrations ceased. Satisfied, he once more pocketed the fork, and then his voice and guitar softly slid into another tune. Soon Jody's voice joined his and the music took over.

Mike had heard the conversation, and he felt slightly comforted. At least Jody hadn't made a final decision yet.

That evening, Jody and Mike sat at the dining room table as Myrtle carried in a roasted turkey.

"Mmm-mmm," she muttered, "a big turkey, a good turkey." Mike looked up at the large, round body in the white uniform and curly red wig and said to Jody, "Speaking of turkeys..." The two watched Myrtle happily humming and carving the big bird, and they laughed together.

'You gonna see Suzy?" Mike asked.

"I don't know. We had a little fight this morning when I stopped at the bank," Jody responded.

"Yeah? What about?"

"Not much. She's just sore cause I haven't taken her any place lately."

"Why don't ya?"

"I don't know...there's not much to do around this town."

"Sure there is," Mike responded quickly, "there's the bowling alley, or the movies, or Dunes Cantina, or..."

"Big deal."

"Hell, if you don't, there's a lot of guys that will. She's the best lookin' babe around here."

"I know, I know. Don't nag. I'll go over right after dinner and I'll take her to a goddam movie! Shit."

Later that evening, Mike watched from behind a tree as Jody walked up to Suzy's house. He stood there for a long time before the door opened. It wasn't Suzy but Sally, her older sister, who appeared. Sally was almost as pretty as Suzy, but in a quieter, less spectacular way. She spoke in a tiny voice.

"Hi, Jody, what brings you here this evening?"

"Where's Suzy?" Jody asked.

"She just left with Bobbie Wilkerson," Sally replied, opening the door wider and revealing herself in a short, clinging satin nightgown.

Jody seemed surprised, 'You're kidding? She really went out with that toad?"

Sally smiled, "He's not so bad. Come on in and have a beer." She stepped back into the light which shone through her gown, revealing her slender feminine figure. Jody started in, then thought better of it. She was clearly inviting him for more than beer, and he wasn't ready to get involved with two women in the same family.

"Uh, thanks, but I told Reg I'd meet him at the Dunes....and I'm late now...but thanks, thanks a lot," he backed away as he spoke.

Sally smiled, "Any time, Jody...I'll tell Suzy you were here."

Jody took off down the steps and jumped into the car. "Damn that girl, " he muttered angrily to himself, "going out right away with that idiot. It would've served her right if I'd screwed her sister."

He headed the car toward Dunes Cantina with Mike loping along behind on foot. It was a small town, and Mike didn't dare try to follow him on the motorbike, because it made too much noise.

By the time Mike reached the local roadhouse at the edge of town on the road toward Morningside, the Cuda was parked out in front. Peering through the window, Mike saw Jody perched on a stool at the bar talking to some blonde woman he'd never seen before. She was wearing a lavender dress and looked a little strange. Mike couldn't figure out why she looked different, maybe it was the heavy makeup she wore. He wondered who she was; he'd never seen her around town, and he thought he knew everybody who lived there.

Jody and the woman finished their drinks and stood up to leave. Mike ran to the side of the building where he couldn't be seen. He watched covertly as the two walked out with their arms wrapped around each other. He heard Jody's voice saying, "You know, there's only one thing to do in this town..." His voice faded away as they walked up the road toward the cemetery.

Mike followed quietly. He had read a lot about Indians, and he was learning to stalk his brother without being noticed. As they neared the cemetery, Mike hesitated. "What the hell are they going there for?" he wondered. The place gave him chills in the daylight, and it was so dark now. He was about to turn around, but his curiosity kept him following.

The two continued on into the cemetery grounds. As they walked among the tombstones, she would stop periodically and kiss Jody hungrily. It was obvious that she was the one doing the seducing. Jody looked around uncertainly, "Isn't this a little spooky?" he asked.

"No, I think it's exciting," was her reply.

As she forced his mouth open and pushed her tongue in, she pulled him over to a large, flat piece of granite covering a grave. She lay down on it with her arms around Jody's neck and pulled him down on top of her.

Mike crept closer, intrigued by the exotic woman's aggressiveness. The moon was full, and he could see them clearly. The woman pulled her dress down to her waist, revealing two large, round breasts which Jody stroked appreciatively murmuring, "Wow..."

Mike too was astounded at the size, and he was fascinated as he watched her pull Jody's pants down.

Suddenly, out of the darkness close to him, Mike heard a quick, rasping sound. Startled, he tried to peer into the bushes around him, but he was in the shadows and could see nothing. He strained to see through the darkness. He had heard that sound before. Where? Here In Morningside. The day he fell on his motorbike. What was it? He began to move silently and cautiously, emboldened somewhat by the nearby presence of Jody.

He heard the sound again, only this time it was louder...and closer. Immediately, a small, brown figure broke through the bushes and plunged toward him. Startled and terrified, Mike began running and screaming. He tore out of the bushes and dashed past the two lovers, screaming as loud as he could and running as fast as he could make his legs move.

Shocked, Jody looked up from his lovemaking as his brother seemed to fly noisily past him. Pulling himself reluctantly away from his sex partner, he sputtered, "What the hell? It's my little brother. I'll be right back. I think he's got some kind of a problem..."

Running and tripping as he tried to pull up his jeans, which were down around his ankles, Jody, yelled at Mike to slow down. Finally, as they left the cemetery, he caught up with his younger brother. He tackled him, but Mike struggled and protested.

"Look out! It's after me! It's gonna get me!'"

Jody held onto him, "What? What's gonna get you?"

Breathless and afraid, Mike tried to explain, "I don't know, but it's little and brown and low to the ground'"

Unbelieving, Jody tried to make light of Mike's fears, "It's probably just a gopher in heat."

Angry that his fears were not being taken seriously, Mike yelled back, "It wasn't any gopher! It's out there, I tell you! And where's that girl, anyway?"

"Well, she's waiting back there for me, you idiot!"

Mike stopped and listened, "Did ya hear that?" There was another of the strange, rasping sounds. Jody listened too, then he shook his head in exasperation, "Ah, it's only the wind."

"Well, you better go get her before it gets her!"

"What, you got some kind of over-active imagination or something man?"

Disgusted and harassed, Jody pulled the keys out of his pocket, "Look, tell you what, you go on home. I'll talk to you when I get back."

"You sure you'll be O.K.?" Mike asked uncertainly, beginning to doubt his own senses.

Annoyed, Jody gave him a slight shove, "Get out of here."

Jody watched as Mike headed down the road toward Dunes where he had left the car, then he turned back toward Morningside. "That kid sure has a fancy imagination," he said to himself, then wondered if perhaps Mike was just looking for attention. "I'll deal with that tomorrow... right now I better try to figure out where the hell I left that babe."

Jody began to make his way back through the darkness. It hadn't seemed quite this dark when he had entered the place with the girl. He wasn't sure exactly where he had left her. He thought about her fantastic tits. They were the best he'd ever seen, and he'd seen a lot. Somehow, however, he wasn't much in the mood anymore. Damn that kid.