When Darkness Loves Us

She took down a jelly glass from the cupboard and filled it with water. Then she snipped off the roots of the flowers and put them in the glass, slowly, carefully, so Martha could see what she was doing; then she helped Martha arrange them. Martha set them gently in the center of the table, turning them around and around until they suited her.

She watched them, lightly smiling, head tilting this way and that, throughout their silent dinner.

Fern was delighted. Harry pretended not to notice.

CHAPTER 19

Martha heard the truck scrunching the gravel in the drive. The night was cool and quiet, the sound of the truck out of place, menacing in its inappropriateness. She looked over at Leon, sound asleep next to her, the faint shadow of a beard giving his cheeks a hollow appearance in the moonlight. The engine outside died, and she heard the rusted creak of a door opening.

“Leon,” she whispered, shaking his shoulder.

He cracked a sleepy eye.

“What?”

“Someone’s outside.”

“Nah. Why would someone be outside?” His eyes rolled, and his lids closed again.

Gravel crunched underfoot.

“Leon, wake up. Someone’s coming.”

He opened his eyes again and lay there, patiently. Then he heard it, and his eyes widened as he sat up. They heard a giggle, a low, harsh word, then a soft footfall on the porch steps. Leon swung his legs out of bed and grabbed his jeans, pulling them on quickly. He motioned to her with his hand. “Stay here.”

She nodded, her eyes wide with fear, and pulled the covers up to her chin.

Leon looked around the room for a weapon, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. There was nothing.

He walked quietly through the kitchen, looked cautiously out the kitchen window and saw two silhouetted forms on the porch. He waited in the dark, his heart pounding, his breathing loud in his ears.

The doorknob turned slowly and stopped. It was locked. He heard a muffled curse, and digging and scratching. He couldn’t decide whether to turn on the porch light or not. Better do it. Maybe they’ll just go away. Better than having them inside.

He took two quick steps and turned on the light switch.

Two startled faces looked up at the light, squinting. Leslie recovered quickly. He smiled through the glass.

“Hey, Leon! That you, Leon?”

Leslie and Priscilla. Shit. Both drunk.

“What do you want?”

“Come on, man, let us in. We just came by to say hello.” Leslie dug Priscilla in the ribs, starting off a whole new set of giggles. She looked pretty unsteady.

“Get out of here, Leslie. It’s the middle of the night.”

“Hey, Leon, buddy, just thought you might want to . . .”

“Go home!” Leon snapped off the porch light. He heard Priscilla start to whine.

“C’mon, Leslie. This wasn’t such a good idea.”

Leslie started to pound on the door. Leon flicked on the light and whipped open the door at the same time. Leslie almost fell on his face. Priscilla stumbled in behind him.

“I’m going to give you ten seconds to state your business and decide to go home.”

“Hey, brother. Don’t be so hasty. Where’s your manners? Come on, how about a beer?”

“Yeah, Leon, how about a beer?” Priscilla thought she was real cute. “Why don’t you invite Martha to come join us?”

“I don’t need an invitation in my own house,” Martha said from the doorway. She was wrapped up in her robe, her hair all astray, hands clutching the robe closed.

Priscilla’s eyes opened in amazement. Sobriety settled over her. This can’t be Martha!

“Hey, Martha,” Priscilla said. “What happened? I mean you look terrific.” She belched without even trying to be polite about it.

“What is it you want?”

“Just thought we’d drop by for a little party, right, Priscilla?”

“Uh, right.” Priscilla couldn’t take her eyes off Martha. “Hey, Martha, remember when we painted the living room, you and me?”

“No.”

Priscilla’s eyes turned to Leslie. “We better go, Les.”

“Not until I get my beer.”

“I don’t have any beer, Leslie,” Leon said.

“C’mon, Les. Let’s go.” Priscilla looked at Martha with something close to fear in her eyes. She grabbed Leslie’s T-shirt and pulled him toward the door. “This is too weird.”

Leslie punched Leon lightly on the arm. “Take it easy, eh, Leon? Maybe we’ll get together for that beer soon.” He followed Priscilla out the door. “I’ll come back.”

“There’ll be a shotgun waitin’ next time, Leslie.”

Pure evil rippled across Leslie’s face. His arms hung limply at his sides, as if the beer were finally catching up with his body, but his face sneered. He whispered menacingly. “You fuckin’ pervert.”

Leon clenched his fists and stood his ground, watching as Priscilla grabbed Leslie’s T-shirt again and pulled him out to the truck. Leslie stumbled backward, then jerked out of her grasp, eyes clamped tight on Leon’s.