Long Lost - James Scott Bell Page 0,1
to get him.
The terrors never came back. Until the night of the shattered eyes, when the real monsters came.
It was good to have Robert in the same room when Mom and Dad were fighting. Robert would say, “Don’t worry. They’ll get over it.”
Then Robert would tell another story about Arnold and Beebleobble. And even though Stevie could still hear the voices yelling in the kitchen, he’d get lost in the stories about the two baby monsters and everything would seem all right.
Of course, Stevie knew that Robert was Dad’s favorite. Robert could throw a baseball almost across the park. He was built like Dad, strong and stocky. Stevie took after his mom, who was kind of skinny.
Lots of times Dad took Robert to the park to play and left Stevie at home.
Once Stevie cried about it and his dad took him outside and whacked his butt with a piece of kindling.
The night of the shattered eyes started with a hot wind from the desert. It blew into Stevie’s room like a pair of hot gloves, pressing his face. Stevie’s window looked east toward Highway 86 and across the valley, to the brown desolate mountains, sun-baked in the distance. There wasn’t much but undeveloped land between the house and hills. Sometimes Stevie thought they lived at the end of the world. Because all he could see from his window was a whole lot of hot nothing.
This night, there was something on the wind. Stevie tried to tell Robert about it.
“It’s hotter,” Stevie said.
“It’s not so bad,” Robert said. “Sleep on top of the sheets. Sleep in your underwear.”
“I will if you will.”
“Okay.”
In the darkness they took off their pajamas. Stevie wore underwear under his pajamas like Robert did.
Then Robert said, “Once upon a time, Arnold and Beebleobble decided to sleep on top of their cave. They looked up in the sky. They saw a shooting star. Some of the shooting-star dust fell on them and made it so they could each have one wish and it would come true. Arnold wished he could go to an Angels game. Beebleobble wished he could fly to the moon and back. And they got their wishes.”
Stevie thought about that. “Know what I’d wish for?”
“What?”
“That I could throw as good as you.”
“You can if you practice.”
“I tried.”
“Tomorrow I’ll practice with you, okay?”
“ ’kay.”
With the wind blowing outside, Stevie fell into a calm sleep. Deep like the desert night.
He woke up with a rough hand over his mouth. Pressing him down. Maybe it was Robert playing a game. But it wasn’t. It was something big.
A monster.
Stevie tried to scream, but the monster pushed on his mouth. The monster had no face. Stevie heard something by the window and knew there was another monster in the room. Getting Robert.
The no-face leaned down and Stevie smelled cigarettes, and that both relieved and frightened him. He was sure it was a man now, not a monster, but what was he doing to him? And Robert?
The man was wearing a ski mask. It was too hot to wear that, so why was he?
The man in the mask whispered. He had a scratchy voice. “Don’t make a sound, you hear me?”
Stevie tried to nod his head, but the man was holding his face hard.
“If you make one sound I’m going to kill you and your brother. I’ll kill you right now.”
Stevie tried not to cry but couldn’t help it. He wanted Robert. He wanted his mom. Even his dad. Anybody.
“So you listen good. I’m gonna be right outside this window, and if you move. If you make any sound—quit crying!”
Stevie couldn’t stop.
“Quit crying or so help me I’ll kill you both.”
For Robert, Stevie thought. Stop crying or they’ll hurt Robert. Stevie closed his eyes and sucked in air through his dribbly nose. It took him a minute, but he stopped crying.
“Good,” the man whispered. “Now here’s what you do. You turn over and put your head in the pillow. If I hear you make a sound or call out anything, you’re going to be dead, you and your brother. You understand?”
Stevie nodded.
The man slowly took his hand away. “I’m gonna to be there all night. Not one sound. Now turn over.”
Stevie did as he was told. If he did what the man said, then Robert would be okay and so would he. They would get to live.
Oh God let us live. Oh God don’t let them hurt Robert. God God please.
Stevie started to cry again but made himself stop. They would