Fright Night For Real

“You seem preoccupied, Charley. If you don’t mind me saying that,” Jerry Dandridge is drinking beer in the shade. It’s a very cloudy day, and sudden gusts of wind make Charley’s skin break into goosebumps. He doesn’t like staying in the shadow of Jerry’s house for some reason, and when it eventually falls on him, Charley feels uneasy. Mom has that old saying… a goose walked over my grave. He used to be scared of it, he didn’t want to think of graves or, especially, of a theoretical mom’s grave. Now he still mighty dislikes this saying but kind of gets the feeling it describes. Something somewhere somehow might be wrong. “Yeah. Trying to decide whether to start painting the fence today.” “Oh, wow. How much is it?” “What? Fence?” “No. The crap you’re trying to sell me.” Jerry Dandridge has a smile you can’t resist but smile back to. So, Charley smiles and even laughs a little. “Alright, you got me… can I have a break?” “You can have that, and even a cold coke, that’s how good I am,” Jerry nods at the icebox at his feet. It’s filled with soda cans and beer, but, as cool as Jerry seems to be, Charley isn’t so sure he would allow underage drinking on his property. So he grabs a can of soda and sits next to Jerry on a chair. “Thanks, Jerry.” “So, what’s up with you? Don’t tell me it’s drugs. I hate drugs.” “What? No, no! Nothing like that!” he gulps his soda and resists an urge to burp. Then, he sighs. “I used to have a friend. We were inseparable but then… well… something happened.” “Adulting happened,” suggests Jerry. “You might say that… we stopped hanging out mainly because… he is weird.” “And you feel bad because of that.” “No. I feel bad because we argued and he stopped coming to school. Like at all.” “Ditching school because of a quarrel seems a little bit stretched out. Have you tried calling him?” “No. Not yet.” Charley is half-expecting the next logical question from Jerry, the why question, but the man keeps silent. That is one good thing about his neighbor that not every adult can boast of. Jerry is physically able to shut up without looking offended, and he often does that when needed. Sixth sense. Intuition. Good manners, maybe. Charley started helping out his neighbor a week ago. Jerry offered to pay for some help with the lawn. Well, to be fair, there wasn’t much of a lawn a week ago, and Jerry was pretty straightforward about that: he was too busy and too lazy to give a shit about the way his backyard looked until one of his girlfriends had seen it and told him off. “We broke up a day after. But, you know, it still hurts,” Jerry sighed and added. “The things she said about my backyard.” Charley remembers laughing and offering his help. For a quick buck, of course. Jerry eagerly agreed. Now, a week later, Charley is sitting on the back porch in the shade, next to the guy his ex-best-friend accused of being Count Dracula or something. And he can’t help but think how quick that happened. He marched the road from tolerating the new neighbor to liking him in a week. Pretty fast. “I don’t know what to tell him,” finally says Charley, and that is true. He also doesn’t want to find out that Ed has gone missing, and… and that he wasn’t crazy about Jerry. Because Jerry is weird, even though he is dreamy, as his Mom told one of her friends over the phone. Part of Charley, the one that insists on turning on the light when he gets up at night to go to the bathroom, keeps telling him that Jerry feels strange. Maybe he’s a psycho. Like that dude from American Psycho who just seemed okay but was so fucked up that he probably had a residence permit for a looney town. “Why don’t you text his parents?” Charley blinks and looks at Jerry astonished. That thought never crossed his mind. “I thought as much,” Jerry smiles and finishes his beer. “Teens always forget that parents exist.” “That’s actually a great idea… thanks.” “A great idea from a great man.” “Wow, you’re so humble. Vanity is a sin, you know.” “I never pretended to be a saint. That would have been boring.”

***

Ed’s parents tell him that Edward has had a nervous breakdown and he won’t be attending school for some time. “Homeschooling for the time being,” Mrs.Lee tells him and she sounds very upset when she says in a half-whisper. “I think he might have been bullied at school. It won’t surprise me at all.” To be fair, she wouldn’t be the only one. Charley feels so much better after this, he feels so grateful to the man who actually suggested texting Eddie’s parents.

***

“You like him, don’t you?” Edward Lee is wandering around the almost empty living room. He isn’t interested in the TV shows anymore, the thing Jerry is a little bit too obsessed with to his liking. “You like Charley.” Jerry’s eyes are fixed on the screen. They are dark and deep, and Ed can see the screen reflecting in them. “You like Charley, and that’s why you haven’t paid him a proper visit yet. You… you… savor him!” The last phrase sounds bitter, accusing almost. Jerry doesn’t give a shit. He doesn’t move and pays no attention to the person whose life he took. Eddie doesn’t like all these feelings he’s suddenly having. He’s elated, he’s overwhelmed with being accepted. He’s angry that Jerry doesn’t allow him to go and teach a lesson or two to all those motherfuckers who picked on him at school. He’s bored with the TV shows that tell nothing new. This one is a freakin’ house flipper! He is longing. Too many feelings for a single person. Ed sits on the floor, next to Jerry’s bare feet, and looks up at him. Several minutes pass. Jerry doesn’t move, he doesn’t blink and, of course, he doesn’t breathe. “He must be very old,” Ed suddenly thinks. “If he doesn’t do the breathing thing reflexively.” He gets up, walks around the room again, picks up the remote, and switches the TV off. Jerry slowly turns his head and his eyes focus on Ed. “What did you do that for?” “I’ve been trying to get your freaking attention for an hour already!” Ed snaps. “But, apparently, I am not as interesting as these shows!” “Apparently not.” Ed hisses and bares his fangs, and knows that was a mistake the very next moment. Jerry doesn’t move but the room suddenly feels cold and dangerous. The air is filled with electric charges, as if a thunderstorm has formed right in the living room and now it is full of invisible lightnings. One wrong move and you are dead. For real. “I can’t breathe,” Ed thinks, panicking, and then realizes he doesn’t need to. “The next time you do this, Eddie, I will tear you apart,” the man says, and it’s not a threat. It’s a statement. “You never hiss at me. You never bare your little prickling needles at me. Am I clear enough?” “Yes. I’m sorry, Jerry. I’m really sorry. I was…” “Stupid.” “Yes. I was stupid, and…” “Disrespectful.” “Disrespectful, yes. And sad. And that will never happen again.” “Good,” Jerry extends his hand, and for a moment Eddie thinks that the man wants to take his hand to soothe him. And then he realizes that Jerry wants his remote back. Eddie gives him the remote, and the TV jumps to life again. “May I ask a question?” Eddie finally breaks the silence between them. “Shoot.” “Why are you watching this…” “Crap?” Jerry smirks, and Eddie is relieved that the storm has passed. Jerry is Jerry again, not the bloody shark from Jaws. “Well… yes.” “It helps me stay human-like. Watching your prey, the way it moves, talks, laughs… it’s essential. To remember how to be a human.” Now Eddie gets it. Jerry is old. “As per your previous statement,” the man is watching attentively two guys who are desperately trying to pass for high school boys and who are so buff that they might have problems walking through the doors. “I do savor Charley Brewster. He is exquisite.” It wasn’t supposed to hurt but it does. Ed sits on the floor and tries to watch the show. When Jerry’s hand pets him, he hates that it feels so good. It should feel humiliating and it doesn’t. “We are very different, Charley and I,” Jerry says lazily, and he is the first person Ed knows who doesn’t make a grammatical mistake here. “But you know what they say…” “What?” “Opposites attract.”