Suffer the Children
“Sit down,” Elizabeth ordered her. “I’ll bring the baby.”
Slowly, Kathy sank onto one of the rocks that served as a stool and watched in fascination as Elizabeth produced a sack and placed it on the tablelike boulder.
“It’s broken,” Kathy said as Elizabeth pulled a bundle of doll’s clothes from the bag. “There’s no head.”
“Yes there is,” Elizabeth muttered. “Here.” She pulled the bonnet out of the bag and set it on the table. It rolled over, and the cavern echoed with another scream as Kathy saw the distorted features of the cat’s face, the eyes open but sunken in now, the stump of flesh at the severed neck beginning to putrefy.
Kathy fought to control herself. She thought she was going to throw up.
“I don’t want to stay here,” she said, her voice quavering with the beginnings of hysteria. “Let’s go home.”
“But we have to have a party,” Elizabeth said, her voice carrying a silky sweetness that somehow frightened Kathy even more. “That’s why we came here.” She began propping the body of the cat up on one of the rocks, and Kathy watched in horror as Elizabeth tried to balance the head on the decapitated torso.
“Stop that!” she cried. “Don’t do that!” She felt the sting of another slap, and this time she struck back. Her hand flashed out, but before it could make contact with Elizabeth, the other girl had leaped on her.
Kathy felt Elizabeth’s weight coming down on her and tried to brace herself, but there was nothing to brace herself against. She rolled off the rock to the floor of the cavern, and felt Elizabeth’s fingernails digging into her face. She screamed again.
“Don’t do that down here,” Elizabeth said, the silkiness gone from her voice and her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. “Down here you have to be quiet. My friend doesn’t like noise.”
Beneath her, Kathy whimpered, and tried to regain control of herself. She had to, she knew, or the beating would continue. She forced her body to go limp.
“Let me up,” she whispered desperately. “Please, Elizabeth, let me up.” The beating ceased then, and Kathy felt the pressure ease as Elizabeth let go of her. She lay quietly, her eyes closed tightly, waiting for whatever would come.
“Sit there,” she heard Elizabeth hiss. “Sit over there, and I’ll pour us some tea.”
Kathy opened her eyes slowly, and looked around. Elizabeth was sitting on the rock nearest the end of the dangling rope ladder, and Kathy felt her hopes fading. She had thought she might be able to climb out of the shaft before Elizabeth could stop her. Now, she could see, that would never happen. She got shakily to her feet, and sat carefully on the rock opposite Elizabeth. Between them, the macabre corpse of the cat sat propped on a third rock, its lips stretched back in a deathly grin. Kathy tried not to look at it.
“Now,” Elizabeth said. “Isn’t this nice?”
Kathy nodded dumbly.
“Answer me,” Elizabeth snapped.
“Yes,” Kathy whispered, afraid to raise her voice.
“What?” Elizabeth demanded, and Kathy was afraid for a moment that Elizabeth was going to hit her again.
“Yes,” she said, louder this time.
“Yes what?” Elizabeth said relentlessly.
“Yes,” Kathy said, wrenching every word out, “this is very nice.” Elizabeth seemed to relax, and smiled at her.
“Tea?” Elizabeth asked.
Kathy stared at her.
“Answer me!” Elizabeth demanded. “Do you want some tea?”
“Y-yes,” Kathy stammered. “Some tea …”
Elizabeth began to mime pouring tea and passing a cup to Kathy. Kathy hesitated for a split second, but quickly pretended to accept the invisible cup Elizabeth was holding out to her. There was an odd, wild look in Elizabeth’s eyes, and Kathy felt panic beginning to grow in her. She wanted to bolt for the ladder, but knew there was no way she could get to it before Elizabeth got to her.
“I think we should go now,” Kathy said slowly. “I really think we should. Mrs. Norton will be looking for me.”
“Fuck Mrs. Norton,” Elizabeth said quietly. Kathy’s eyes widened at the word, and her fear grew.
“Please, Elizabeth,” she said fearfully. “Can’t we go now? I don’t like it here.”
“You don’t like it?” Elizabeth said, glancing around at the dimly lit cavern. The flames flickered, and shadows danced evilly on the walls. “It’s my secret place,” Elizabeth went on. “And now it’s yours, too. Only we know about this place.”
Until I get home, Kathy thought. She fought to stay calm, and watched Elizabeth carefully.
Elizabeth was engrossed in the tea party, and was busy pouring for the wreckage that had been her pet, and pretending to pass cakes around. Her eyes fell once more on Kathy.
“Talk to me,” she said.
“Talk to you?” Kathy repeated. “About what?”
“They don’t talk to me, you know. None of them do. They only talk to Sarah, and she can’t answer. So I come here, and my friends talk to me.” She was staring into Kathy’s eyes again, and there was a cold light in her own eyes. “All my friends talk to me here,” she said again. Kathy licked her lips.
“I—I like your secret place,” Kathy said carefully, hoping she was choosing the right words. “I’m glad you brought me here. But, please, I’m going to be awfully late for my job. If I get in trouble, I won’t be able to come here with you again.”
“You will,” Elizabeth said with a smile, but the smile only made Kathy more uncomfortable. “You’ll learn to love this place. You’ll learn to love it as much as I do.”
“Y-yes,” Kathy said. “I suppose I will. But I have to go now. I really do,” she pleaded.
Elizabeth seemed to consider it, then nodded.
“All right,” she said at last. “Help me clear off the table.”
She stood up and began to go through the motions of stacking up all the imaginary dishes. Kathy watched her in silence, but when Elizabeth glared at her she stood up and tried to convince Elizabeth that she was helping. She also tried to move near the shaft, but Elizabeth managed to keep herself between Kathy and the ladder.
“Blow out the lights,” Elizabeth commanded. She stood at the bottom of the ladder, the flashlight in her hand.
“Turn on the flashlight,” Kathy countered. Elizabeth snapped it on.
“Will you hold it while I climb up the ladder?”
Elizabeth nodded. Kathy moved toward the ladder.
“The candles,” Elizabeth said softly. “I told you to blow them out.”
Obediently Kathy turned back to the stone slab. She blew out one of the candles, then stooped over the other one. Just before she blew on its tiny flame, she stared over the flickering light and saw Elizabeth smiling at her. She blew out the candle.
As the flame died, Elizabeth snapped off the flashlight and darted up the rope ladder. Below her she could hear the first scream of terror burst from Kathy’s throat.
“Eliiiiiiiizabeth!” Kathy wailed. “Nooooooo! Oh, God, Elizabeth, don’t leave me here!”
The screams built in intensity, and Elizabeth heard the other child stumbling around in the blackness of the pit, knowing that Kathy was trying to find the end of the rope ladder that should have dangled somewhere in the suffocating darkness. But she had already pulled the rope ladder out of the pit. Kathy’s screams echoed around her, resounding off the walls of the upper chamber, pounding against her eardrums. She coiled the ladder, then moved once more to the top of the shaft. She threw the beam of light downward and watched as Kathy swarmed into it like a moth around a lightbulb.
Kathy’s face tipped up, drained of blood and shining palely in the uncertain light of the electric torch. Her mouth was contorted into the shape of the screams that tore upward from some spot deep in her guts, and her arms were upraised, pleading.
“Noooooo!” she screamed “Pleeeeeaaaase nooooo!”
Elizabeth held the flashlight steady and stared down at her friend.
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“You have to be quiet in the secret place,” she said softly. Then she snapped the light off and moved to the entrance of the tunnel by memory, surely, swiftly. She began crawling toward the surface.
By the time she emerged on the embankment, the roaring of the surf drowned out whatever remnants of the screams might have found their way through the tunnel, and Elizabeth was pleased that she no longer heard sounds from the secret place.
She began making her way deftly up the embankment and disappeared into the woods.
15
Marilyn Burton didn’t begin worrying until eight o’clock that night. If she had been home earlier in the day she would have begun worrying then, but, having closed her shop at six as usual, the had decided to treat herself to a dinner out. She didn’t mind eating alone; in fact, she rather enjoyed it. She talked to people all day in the store, and it was a relief to spend a few hours by herself, alone with her thoughts. She heard the phone ringing as she put her key in the door, just before eight, and a feeling came over her that something had gone wrong, that she was about to be alone with some thoughts she wouldn’t enjoy.
“Marilyn?”
She recognized Norma Norton’s voice immediately, and the feeling of unease intensified.
“Yes?” she said. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it?”
There was a short pause before Norma spoke again. “Well, I don’t know,” she said uncertainly. “That’s why I’m calling you. I’ve been calling you all afternoon.”
“Why didn’t you call me at the store?”
“I did, but the line’s out of order.”
Marilyn frowned, then realized that she hadn’t had any calls all afternoon. Nor had she had any reason to call out. The sound of her daughter’s name brought her mind back to Norma Norton.
“I’m sorry,” she said, “I was drifting. What about Kathy?”
“That’s what I want to know,” Norma said, her exasperation coming clearly over the line. “What about Kathy? She never showed up after school.”
“She didn’t?” Mrs. Burton said blankly. “That’s strange.”
“It’s damned inconsiderate is what it is,” Norma fumed. “I thought she might have gotten sick, but she could at least have called.”
“Just a minute,” Marilyn said. “I’ll check here. I just got in.” She set the phone down, but even as she walked toward Kathy’s room she knew it would be empty. She was doing the same thing she had done when they’d called her to tell her that Bob was dead. Postponing the inevitable. Even knowing what she was doing, she still walked through the entire house before she returned to the telephone.
“She’s not here,” she said. She stood dumbly, waiting for the woman at the other end to pick up the conversation. There was a long, awkward silence as the memory of Anne Forager’s strange story went through both their minds. Neither of them wanted to mention it.
“Maybe she went over to see a friend,” Norma Norton said gently. “Maybe she forgot all about babysitting for me today.”
“Yes,” said Marilyn numbly. “I’ll tell you what. Let me make a couple of calls, and I’ll call you back when I find her. She certainly owes you an apology.”
“Do you want me to call Ray?”
“Of course not,” Marilyn replied, too quickly. “I’m sure everything is fine.” But she knew it wasn’t. She dropped the receiver back in its cradle and sat silently for a few minutes. Postponing the inevitable. Then she picked up the phone and dialed.
“Mrs. Conger?” she said. “This is Marilyn Burton.”
“Hello,” Rose said warmly. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally decided to sell that store of yours?”
No, Marilyn said. “That’s not why I’m calling. I was just wondering if Kathy’s out there.”
“Kathy?” Rose said blankly. “No. Isn’t she home?” She reproved herself for asking a dumb question. “I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “Of course she isn’t home, is she?”
“No,” Marilyn said reluctantly. “I wish she were. Is Elizabeth there?”
“Yes, of course,” Rose said. “Just a minute, I’ll call her.”
Jack looked at her curiously as she went to the door of the study. “Kathy Burton hasn’t gotten home from school yet,” she said. “Mrs. Burton is wondering if Elizabeth knows where she might have gone.” She stepped into the hall and called Elizabeth’s name, then waited until her daughter came down the stairs.
“It’s Kathy’s mother,” she explained. “She’s wondering if you know what Kathy was doing this afternoon.”
Elizabeth walked to the phone, and picked it up.
“Mrs. Burton? This is Elizabeth.”
“Hello, dear, how are you?” Marilyn Burton plunged ahead without waiting for an answer. “Did you see Kathy this afternoon?”
“Sure,” Elizabeth said. “She walked most of the way home with me. She was baby-sitting for the Nortons today.”
“And she walked with you all the way to the Nortons’?”
“Farther,” Elizabeth said. “We were talking about something, and she walked with me all the way past the Stevenses’ house.”
“Stevenses?” Marilyn Burton said blankly. “Who are they?”
“Oh, they’re the people who bought the Barnes place,” Elizabeth said. “They just moved in.”
“I see,” Marilyn said. “And Kathy was going to go right back to the Nortons’?”
“That’s what she said,” Elizabeth replied. “I tried to talk her into coming here for a little while, but she said she didn’t have time.”
“I see,” Marilyn Burton repeated, though she had barely heard what Elizabeth had told her. “Well, I’m sure she’s perfectly all right.”
“Didn’t she get to the Nortons’?” Elizabeth asked.
“No,” said Marilyn Burton. “She didn’t. But don’t worry. I’m sure she’s somewhere.” She dropped the receiver back in its cradle, then called Norma Norton back.
“Norma?” she said. “It’s Marilyn. I think you’d better call Ray.”
Rose saw the apprehension in her daughter’s face as Elizabeth hung up the phone.
“What is it?” she asked. “Has something happened to Kathy?”
Elizabeth shrugged and shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. She never got to the Nortons’.”
“Where did she leave you?” Jack asked.
“At the edge of the woods,” Elizabeth replied. “We were talking about the Stevenses, and Kathy was hoping if we walked by, maybe she’d get a glimpse of Jeff.”
“And did you?” Rose asked archly.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t think anybody was home,” she said. “At least, we didn’t see anybody. So when we got to the woods Kathy said she had to be getting back to the Nortons’.”
There was an uncomfortable silence, and Rose was sure that all three of them were thinking about Anne Forager. “Well,” she said finally, breaking the silence. “You’d better get back upstairs before Sarah misses you.”
“Yeah,” Elizabeth said blankly. “I hope nothing’s happened to Kathy.” She searched her parents’ faces, as if looking for reassurance that her friend was all right. Rose did her best to smile brightly.
“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” she said, with a confidence she didn’t feel. Then she decided to voice what they were all thinking. “After all, nothing happened to Anne Forager, did it?”
“No,” Elizabeth agreed. “But she’s a little liar anyway. Kathy isn’t like that” She left the room, and Jack and Rose listened to her steps echoing up the stairs.
“We ought to get a carpet for that staircase,” Jack said absently.
“That’s a stupid thing to say,” Rose snapped. She stopped, surprised at what she’d said. Jack stared at her.
“What did you expect me to say?” he said coldly. “Are we supposed to sit here speculating on what might have happened to Kathy Burton?” He saw the anger flare in his wife’s eyes, and wished he’d kept his mouth shut. He picked up his
glass and headed for the bar in the corner of the study.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Rose said.
“Do you? Well, I’m sorry,” Jack said irritably, and poured twice as much liquor into the glass as he had intended to. He was preparing for the battle he could see brewing when the phone rang again. This time it was Ray Norton.
“That you, Jack?” he said when Jack picked up the receiver.
“Hello, Ray,” Jack replied. “Shall I guess what you’re calling about?”
“I was wondering if it would be all right with you if I dropped over for a couple of minutes.”
“Here?” Jack said. “Why here?”
“Well,” Ray answered. “It seems like Elizabeth was the last person to see Kathy—”
“You’re talking like she’s dead,” Jack interrupted.
“I didn’t mean to.” Ray Norton was apologetic but firm. “But she does seem to be missing, and I’d like to hear Elizabeth’s story straight from her.”
“What do you mean?” Jack said defensively.
Ray Norton heard the tone of his voice, and hurried to dispel Jack’s thoughts.
“Stop jumping to conclusions,” Ray said. “I just don’t like getting information secondhand, even from a mother. In fact, especially from a mother. I’d rather get it directly from the source, and from what I know of Elizabeth, she’s a pretty reliable source. Can I drop over for a few minutes?”
“Officially or unofficially?” Jack asked.
“Oh, come on, Jack,” Ray replied. “If you’re wondering if you need a lawyer—”
“No,” Jack interrupted, “I was wondering if I should have a drink waiting for you. See you when you get here.” He dropped the phone back on the hook, cutting off Ray Norton’s relieved laughter, and turned to his wife.
“We’re having company,” he said.
“So I gathered,” Rose said drily. “I take it he wants to talk to Elizabeth?”
“That’s it” Jack nodded. “I guess Marilyn Burton’s pretty upset, and gave him a garbled version of what Elizabeth told her.”