Grace brought the knife to her side and glanced out the window, taking in the scenery while she twirled the weapon in her hand. I tried to move again, but I had no control of my body. It was like I had been dipped into a pool of quicksand. I wasn’t sure what she would do. She seemed conflicted about calling the police. But why?
Grace’s eyes scanned my body.
“Are you going to call them or not?” I forced the words out all at once.
“No cell phone service,” she said.
I tried to point at the computer but I couldn’t. I sucked in a gulp of air. “The computer. There’s a Wi-Fi router beside it. Just plug it in.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You lied about the Wi-Fi too?” Grace walked to the desk and pulled out the chair, taking a seat. One movement of the mouse made the screen turn on. I strained to see what she was doing. I knew my Airbnb account was pulled up because it was the last thing I looked at to confirm my next guest’s arrival in a few days.
“Review guest. Don’t mind if I do,” she said with a devious smile. She placed her fingers on the keyboard and typed away, reading aloud the words, “Grace was a terrific guest. She’s welcome back anytime.”
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled and then gasped for air.
She dramatically clicked the mouse. “Rating: five stars.”
“I have to know,” Grace said, standing from her seat. “Because it’s been bothering me. What really happened the night Lisa died?”
I sighed. “Will you call the police if I tell you?”
“Sure.”
I took several deep breaths.
My eyes closed for a moment and the memory flashed across the back of my lids like a movie in a dark theater.
Lisa sat in the passenger seat beside me while I drove Joe’s truck on the black twisting road. It was dark outside, the only light coming from the moon and the vehicle’s headlights. I couldn’t tell if the rumbling was coming from the truck or Joe asleep in the back seat, snoring away. She glanced over at me and smiled. Her hair was full of blond ringlets and her eyes were green like emeralds. The evening was perfect until it wasn’t anymore.
“Calvin, I’m leaving next week,” she said shakily.
“What do you mean?” I tried to keep my eyes on the road, but I kept looking over at her.
“My assignment is over.”
“I thought you extended it already.” I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.
Lisa tilted her head. “I tried. But they don’t need me anymore, so I accepted a temporary nursing position in Alaska. I start next week.”
“You didn’t even talk to me about this,” I yelled.
She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m talking to you right now.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just telling me how it’s going to be.” I flicked her hand off and shoved her back.
“Calvin,” she nearly cried. “This doesn’t have to be the end for us.”
I saw red and pressed down on the gas pedal. The truck sped up from forty to forty-five.
“Yes, it does,” I said.
“Slow down, Calvin,” Lisa begged.
Up ahead an animal prepared to cross the road. The headlights made its eyes glow.
Lisa swatted me several times, telling me to slow down. I shoved her again, harder this time. Her head cracked against the passenger window. Joe was still dead asleep in the back. Lisa cried and held her head. The truck’s speed climbed to sixty.
“Pull over now,” she yelled.
I unclicked her seat belt, setting her free from me and this world, and braced myself.
She yelled, “What the hell is wrong with you?” while she tried to refasten it.
It was too late. The truck went from sixty to zero in an instant, a collision of metal, flesh, and glass. It all went black. The sound of gurgling woke me, almost like a babbling brook. But it wasn’t. Lisa was pinned against the passenger seat, trying to breathe. The elk’s antlers had gored her, and her pierced lungs were quickly filling with blood. She coughed and choked on it, spitting it up, attempting to speak. Her eyes were wide and soaked with tears, pleading to me for help. I just stared. I couldn’t bring myself to call 911, until I knew that she would never leave for Alaska.
My eyes reopened, the memory rescinded to the back of my mind, compartmentalized.
Grace narrowed her eyes. “And then you moved your brother to the driver’s seat and put it all on him?”
“Yeah,” was all I could manage to say.
She shook her head and left the room, reappearing in the doorway not more than thirty seconds later.
“I almost forgot,” she said. From behind her back, she revealed the stuffed teddy bear I bought her.
Grace crawled on top of me, straddling my hips. Her eyes stared into mine. I begged her to stop, to leave, to call the police, and to take anything she wanted, at least I think I did. I’m not sure what words were coming out and which were still swirling around my brain.
“Please . . . don’t do this . . . Grace.”
“For your comfort,” she said, placing the teddy bear beneath my arm.
Grace lifted the knife high above her head. The sun hit the blade again, making it shimmer. I let out a labored scream.
“You said you’d call the police if I told you,” I panted.
She dragged the tip of the blade lightly down my ribs, feeling the metal rise and fall, up and down the peaks and valleys of the bone. Then between the bottom two ribs, she leaned forward; she and the knife simultaneously moved into me.
“I guess I lied too, Calvin.”
My eyes widened so much, it felt like my lids would split at the corners. Grace raised the knife above her and plunged it into the center of my chest. My white tee turned red. She yanked the knife from my chest. Blood sprayed from the wound, splattering onto her.
I gurgled and coughed, choking on a pained scream. Without hesitating, she thrust the knife into my cheek. The tip nearly touched the back of my throat. It slid through my skin like butter. I knew this was the end. Where had it all gone wrong? How did she know? How did she get the upper hand? The weight in my muscles seemed to go away. Finally, I was free of the spell. Free of the dizziness and fear. I finally let my eyes close, allowing them to get the rest they deserved.
49.
Grace
I pulled the knife out and shoved it into him over and over again. His face, his neck, his chest, his arms, his stomach. The human body is an endless soft canvas to enter and draw upon. I raised and lowered it until my arms were tired, finishing long after Calvin stopped breathing. I propped his lifeless eyes open so he could gaze up at me. He enjoyed looking at me when he was alive, so I’m sure he’d enjoy it in death too. His chest looked like a pit of tar. The headboard and walls were splattered with blood. I was soaked in Calvin. I climbed off his body and laid beside him for a few minutes, caressing his shredded face. Mr. Snuggles was a blood-soaked mess.
The drugs had timed out perfectly. He was lucid enough to know what was happening but quickly went into darkness not a moment later, Charon arriving right on time to ferry him across the River Styx. The handle of the knife was sticky and his white T-shirt was a fantastic canvas for the color show on display. Like a paper towel soaking up juice spilled by a child having far too much fun. This part was inevitable. Calvin’s own behavior made it so. One of us wasn’t going to leave here, and it wasn’t going to be me.