In Laymon's Terms

“Yeah. That’s what makes it so bad. I didn’t want to make the film in the first place, but...well, Dad got laid off by the airline. He’s a pilot, and...” She shook her head. “I just didn’t think I should turn down the part, even though I hated it. That Melissa is so awful. She ends up killing her mother.”

“In real life?” Neal asked, stopping for a red light.

“In real life,” Lynda said. “Melissa’s real name is Elizabeth Doyle. They made her name Melissa in the screenplay. I guess she could have sued if they used her real name. Anyway, she was 18 when she killed her mother. Maybe you heard about it. Her picture and the story were in the paper about three years ago.”

Neal shook his head and drove on.

“Well,” Lynda said, “when Elizabeth was tried in court, all this stuff came out about her having strange powers. There were stories that she killed or hurt people she didn’t like by using her powers. None of it was proved, though. They couldn’t even put her away for killing her mother. Not enough evidence.”

“So she just got off?”

“Scot-free.”

“I wonder if she knows you’re making a film about her?”

“Man, I hope not,” Lynda said. “Anyway, it’s no fun playing someone like her. I hate it.”

The movie started as Neal and Lynda bought popcorn and two sodas. But when they went inside, they saw that the theater was almost empty. Lynda was glad about that. Sitting down, she smiled to think that tonight she wouldn’t have anyone’s head in the way of the screen.

She settled into her seat and started on the popcorn.

A woman sat down right in front of Lynda, blocking the screen with her wild blonde hair. Lynda couldn’t believe it. She looked over at Neal.

He shook his head as if to say, “What a jerk.” Then he whispered, “Let’s move over.”

Lynda started to turn. Then, in the low light, she saw a small dark shape crawl out from under a blonde curl of the woman’s hair. Lynda caught her breath. She took hold of Neal’s arm and pulled him down again into the seat. With her mouth close to his ear, she whispered, “Did you see that? There’s a spider in her hair.”

Neal gave Lynda a look that was half frown, half smile. “Are you kidding?” he whispered back.

Lynda pointed.

Neal looked. The spider was still there. They watched it crawl over the woman’s hair.

Neal made a face. Then he looked at Lynda, shook his head, and leaned forward. “Excuse me,” he said to the woman in front of them. “You seem to have a spider in your hair.”

The woman turned around.

Neal jerked back. Lynda dropped her drink. She felt cold all over as she stared at the woman’s face.

It was covered with spiders. They crawled over her lips, her cheeks, her forehead.

“Lynda,” the woman said. “Do not make that film about me.”

Then spiders flew from the woman’s face as if blown by a wind. Lynda had only enough time to shut her eyes and mouth before they fell on her. She wanted to scream but didn’t dare. Instead, she jumped up, knocking the awful crawling things from her face and neck. When most were gone, she opened her eyes and ran. Neal caught up with her in front of the theater. Lynda was shaking as she brushed spiders off her sweatshirt and out of her hair. Neal helped. Then he looked her over. “I think that’s all of them,” he said.

Lynda tried to calm herself down, but her voice was shaky. “It was her,“ she said. “Elizabeth Doyle.”

“Come on. I’d better take you home.”

Together they walked to Neal’s car. “I just can’t believe it,” she said. “How...how did she find us?”

“Maybe she followed us from your place.”

Quickly they both looked around. No one was behind them.

“What’ll I do?” Lynda asked. “This is awful.”

“Maybe you should drop out of the movie.”

“I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Then she might try something else,” Neal said.

They reached the car. Neal checked the back seat before letting Lynda climb in. He hurried to his side.

“Neal?” Lynda said as he started the engine. She sat low on the seat, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were cold. “Do you think Elizabeth also made that cat attack me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think she does have those strange powers?”

“I’ve never believed in that stuff,” said Neal. “But what she did with those spiders...”

“Neal,” said Lynda, “thanks for being there. If you hadn’t seen it too, I’d think I was losing my mind.”

CHAPTER 4

A STUFFED CAT

Neal frowned when he saw Lynda the next morning. The bandage was gone from her face. The scratches on her cheek were bright red, as if they had started bleeding again.

“Don’t worry, it’s just makeup,” she said as she came toward him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“The pass worked beautifully. How are you feeling?”

“OK, I guess. A little crawly when I think about last night.”

“I almost hoped you wouldn’t be here,” said Neal.

“That I’d stop working on the film? Mom and Dad tried to talk me into that, too. They got pretty worried when I told them what happened.”

“OK, Lynda,” the director called. “You’re on.”