The Cobbe house vi Nell, Cerci and I

My life since the day Tony was taken hadn’t been easy. After a medical discharge  from the Army due to Temporal lobe epilepsy, I found it harder and harder to find work.  In fact, the older I became, the tougher it got. I felt as if IT was controlling the strings of my life, setting me up for a fall at every convenient turn. I met my own wife Delores, a raven haired cornflower eyed Circe in every way but name, just after my discharge when I found myself a working at the Bridgeton library. We both had three little girls all of whom were precocious and adorable. However, after 9 year years, it became pretty clear that things between Delores and I began to frazzle out; I couldn’t seem to keep a job and she was annoyed at my illness.

We became distant and finally settled for a divorce three years ago.   I get to the see the kids – occasionally- . her new lover is a man called Todd Foster, a slick haired  “snake oiled salesman” whom   I found loathsome, when I first met him. All chin and muscle, however, she was happy and that was all that mattered.  So I ended up at home, officially washed up at thirty-five, with no direction, except that Damned house with my two dearest friend’s both of whom would be facing up to the that damned thing that has caused so much pain to our collective lives.

The phone call with Nell was difficult for many reasons. To start with, I knew her partner Steve Donovan from high school. He was a science major and a relentless bully, who had, on one occasion beaten me to the ground, when I refused to move out of the way for him.  I recall him as being a tall and semi muscular man, with a strong chin, narrow cheeks, a wide mouth and flat nose; a man who found people like me an annoyance, and a hindrance to those whom he considered unintelligent enough to grab his concept of the world.

Nell had bloomed from the scrawny 12-year-old from Briar Street. Her narrow features had taken on an almost angelic quality; the once greasy blond strait hair had become wavy. Money and determination had done the rest to shape our Nell into Eleanor Quint. The actress and the up and coming movie star.

 They had met in the last year of Bridgeton High. She had fallen for his intellect, over his, if the irony can be stated, his natural charm; and they moved in together not long after Nell having attained a scholarship at the prestigious New York academy for performing arts. It was here that her talent for register and method acting had won her a lot of notoriety and this, in turn, led to roles in some major Broadway shows. Whereas, Steve, according to Nell, struggled with the life of academia. Reading between Nell’s words, I could hear that he had become an embittered drunk, who was both possessive and manipulative.

When I called her, and told her about Tony I could hear her cry.

‘Was he…’

‘He wasn’t the Tony we knew… the man in that bed…’ I gulped a bit at the memory, ‘I simply couldn’t recognise him.’

‘It’s  funny…’ she began,  ‘I, I felt him go….no… I saw him… the little boy… Steve had stormed out after…well, another row… I, I was sitting on the bed, confused… I , I wanted to call you, just to have a chat, a real chat like we used to. But, but it’s not easy with Steve. I looked up and there, in the corner of the room was Tony. The little boy… he stared at me, and he said that everything was going to be okay now, and I wasn’t to worry any more…I did like him so. I always had…’ Sallow laughter ‘My first crush, they say it never leaves, and it hasn’t… will not.’

I gulped back a bit. ‘Tony wasn’t the same man.’

‘You have the toy soldier’ Her voice sounded cold; authoritarian. As if in command. I hadn’t mentioned it; and was going to, but I was cut off.

‘Steve’s back. I have to go. Tony said that we have to return it… I’ll be on the 17:20 train and should be in Bridgeton by 18:45. We can talk more then. Ring Circe’

The phone line went dead.

Circe had had far less luck, though her beauty had remained, life had not been kind to her; aging her prematurely. Her first marriage to a realtor called Johnny Smitts, to a tall gangly man I recalled, from Bridgeton High had ended when she found that he was having an affair with his boss: the wealthy Marty
Freeman.  She had suspected that Johnny wasn’t into girls from the start, but she was in love with him and their marriage did produce a boy Daniel.  However, Daniel had learning problems and had been diagnosed with autism early on; and though Johnny had promised to stand by her, she felt that living a lie over something else wasn’t going to work.   Her second marriage to a large man with
heavy jowls: Brendon Davey. Brendon was   the local barkeep in Shepperton, a town five miles from Bridgeton. It was a marriage that had led to an abortion as he didn’t want “another spastic child to have to pay out for.”

She stayed with him more out of necessity and need over love, as it seemed that his love for her was rather with her father’s money than herself; and as soon as that had dried up:  so had his affection for her. Finally, for Circe, Love in its emotional sense had died as soon as it became apparent that he had a stronger attachment to his porn collection; whom he seemed to prefer, than actually using his manhood in the proper way, for the proper reasons.

 For Circe, this had become, yet again, another marriage of convenience. However, this time, the roles were reversed. Moreover, this time it was a marriage that was more about keeping a roof over her and Daniel’s head, than about commitment to each other.  I called her directly after I spoke to Nell.

‘So  Tony’s finally at peace.’ She sounded relieved.

‘Yeah.’  I began. 
I was nervous as I still was fond of Circe, even though time and space had displaced us. 

I explained the account at Arkham, the soldier and Nell’s decision to meet up
later that evening.  On hearing about Nell, Circe’s voice lifted.

‘That’s it then. I haven’t seen Nell in a month of Saturday’s, there’s so much to do, pack a  bag or two and I need somewhere
for Daniel to go I have to have somewhere for Daniel go I can’t expect him to come along  it would be so good to meet up once more.

I mentioned that we could arrange something when she  got here  

‘It…it would be nice to see you again.’  I said
nervously, still feeling like that awkward child of so many years ago.

At that Circe became defensive and quiet.

‘Yes, but we know, that can never happen.’ She said flatly.

The reason it could never be was due to a dream; a dream we both shared the night Tony turned insane.

We both had found ourselves in the dark world, where IT lived. We were outside the Cobbe house and  it  was there, in the shadows of the trees, watching us. We could feel it's eyes glaring hotly and maliciously at us.

‘You’re so easy to spot when your togetherrr’  it rasped, its pale face shone and its read hair swirled about his head.  ‘I don’t need feeding now, but I will come and I will feed. I WILL FEED!’ 

‘You don’t scare me!’ I yelled at it. And it laughed cruelly back.

‘Time is such a bitch? DON’T YOU THINK?’

Circe  took a step backwards.

‘YEAH AND BOY AM I GOING TO MESS WITH YOU BEAUTY!’  It sneered.

 I held her hand and in that touch something happened, we both began to glow with this white swirling light.  Eyes form the shadows began to glow, teeth ever-sharp  glistened with saliva.  Talons curled in the weird light.

‘ahhh…look everyone, THEY are in LOVE!’ It laughed ‘Love get’s you KILLED HERE SWEETIE!’ Its voice was venomous and cruel.

We took a step back; as It walked through the trees. Its malformed bulbous head shone in the pale light. Its hideous features twisted with rage and torment.

‘First I will devour Tony…then I will come for you…dear Drew… then Circe and finally Nell, whom I will savour the taste of.’  He walked slowly forward. ‘One at a time…One at a time… I will eat you…one at a time.’  All around him, voices began to laugh cruelly and eyes slit and alien stared out.

Circe wriggled free of my hand, turned and ran. I followed her. But I couldn’t reach her. All I could hear were her words:  ‘I don’t love you Peter I don’t love you Peter, oh Peter Dear Peter I don’t love you at all.’

 I woke up and found myself utterly exhausted. I staggered form my bed and went to the mirror. I looked even more pale than before.  I went to my bedroom window and saw Circe sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up under her nightgown.

I begged and called and called, but she never came.

‘its’ just a dream!’ I said ‘It can’t hurt us!’ 

Circe got up and looked at me.

‘That’s  not true and you know it Drew’

​An then by the closing of a window, she closed that summer forever.