The Midnight Tour

waste my whole life cleaning up after you!”

Eric whimpered and lowered his head.

Something seemed to crumble inside Sandy. “Oh,” she said. “Hey.” She hurried over to him, wrapped her arms around him and drew him against her. “I’m sorry,” she said. She gently stroked his back. “I’m sorry, honey. Mommy shouldn’t have yelled at you. Okay?”

He pressed his face against the side of her neck.

“Better?” she asked.

He sighed.

“I don’t like it when I have to yell at you, honey. But you need to learn to start cleaning up after yourself. You’re getting to be a big boy, you know? I don’t want people saying my big fellow’s a slob.”

The way he started to jiggle, Sandy knew he must be laughing. He did seem to understand so much. If only he could talk...

“You all better now?” she asked.

He sniffed and nodded.

“I’ll take care of the mess this time,” she told him. “But from now on, I want you to make a little more effort to clean up after yourself. Is it a deal?”

He grunted and nodded some more.

“Okay, then,” Sandy said.

She let go of him, but he still clung to her. “Okay if I take my shower now?”

He shook his head.

“What do you want?”

His hands began moving in big circles over her back, the way he did when he soaped her.

“Okay,” Sandy said. “You can come in with me. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

In the shower, they stood together under the hot spray.

Eric soaped her first, rubbing the slippery bar all over her body. Then she did the same for him.

After they’d rinsed all the soap off their bodies, Sandy shut off the water and Eric slid open the shower curtain. They climbed out. Eric handed a towel to her.

As she dried herself, Sandy said, “I need to go back into town this morning.”

Eric furrowed his brow.

“I know. I hate to leave you again so soon. I really should’ve taken care of this yesterday, but I sort of ran out of time.”

Not exactly a lie, she told herself.

Eric didn’t look pleased.

“Oh, don’t give me the sourpuss routine. Why does it even matter if I leave? You’re never around, anyway. And it’s not as if you’ll let me come with you. What am I supposed to do, just hang around the house all day and be here in case you happen to drop in?”

He scowled at her.

“Real nice,” she said. “Anyway, I have to go. I’m sure you’ll get along just fine without me.”

He growled.

“Hey!” she snapped.

Eric flinched at the sharpness of her voice. Glaring at her, he threw his towel to the floor. Then he whirled around and stomped out of the bathroom.

“Wait,” Sandy said. “Eric!”

He hurried down the hallway, feet thumping, claws clicking against the hardwood floor.

“I bought us some chocolate doughnuts yesterday!” she called.

Seconds later, she heard the front door slam.

“Shit”

She suddenly felt like crying.

She almost didn’t leave. But she wanted worse than ever to see Terry And what was the point in staying? Eric was nowhere to be seen. Though he might be hanging around to spy on her, he had probably run off sulking into the woods.

Ready to go, she went out to the pickup truck.

Yesterday, she’d found Eric waiting in the passenger seat as if eager for a ride.

Seeing the seat empty today made her throat feel tight.

“Eric?” she called toward the woods. “I’m sorry! Okay? Look, I’ll stay home if you really want me to. We’ll have the chocolate doughnuts. What do you say?”

She waited, listening, turning slowly and looking for him in the bushes and trees. He remained silent and hidden.

“If you don’t want me to go, you’d better come out.”

He didn’t come out.

Stepping up to the side of the pickup, Sandy tossed her beach blanket into the bed. Then she reached over the panel and set down the canvas bag in which she had packed her swimsuit, sun block, a couple of towels and a paperback novel.

“Last call, Eric!” she yelled. “I’ll stay if you want me to, but you’ve got to come out! I’m not staying home for you if you’re not going to be here!”

She waited, listened.

“No? Okay. See you later.”

She climbed into the truck, swung her purse onto the passenger seat, and started the engine. As she drove down the rough, unpaved road through the woods, she kept looking for him.

But he didn’t show.

She glanced at the place where Slade, Harry Matthews and Lib were buried.

I’m on my way to visit a cop?

Real smart.

If had a lick of sense, I wouldn’t get involved with anyone, much less a cop. I must be out of my mind.

I oughta turn around right now and go back to the cabin.

Instead of turning around, she drove to the gate.

I’ll go back to the house, all right, After I’ve seen Terry. Maybe not till after dark, if I get lucky.

As she unlocked the gate and swung it open, she thought about calling out one more time for Eric.

Why bother? He had his chances.

But she couldn’t help it. “Eric?” she shouted.

No answer.

Good!

In the pickup again, she drove through the open gate. Then she hopped out, shut the gate and locked it.

He made his choice, she told herself.

Back inside the truck, she drove slowly forward, bouncing and shaking her way down the shadowy tracks until she came to the edge of Pacific Coast Highway.

It was a little after nine o’clock when she turned onto Beach Drive. Nobody was stirring. Copies of the morning newspaper still lay on several lawns and driveways. She supposed that some of the residents had already gone to work for the day, while others weren’t yet up and around.

What if Terry isn’t up?

No big deal, she told herself. If he isn’t, he should be.

Just so he’s home.