The Midnight Tour

musty aroma natural to the old house, the air had grown thick with the pungency of sweet perfumes and aftershave lotions and sour sweat. You could smell food on the breaths of some people. Others reeked of stale cigarette smoke. Now and then, Dana even caught whiffs of farts.

Eventually, she’d found herself suffocating, dizzy and nauseous. Each time she blinked her eyes, everything in sight had flashed with rims of bright, electric blue. Slumping against a wall, she’d snatched the radio off her belt and called for Tuck.

Dana was pulled out of her thoughts by the approach of a couple of teenaged boys. Smiling, she said, “Welcome to Beast House, guys.”

One smiled in a shy way, and the other said, “Thanks.”

“May I see your tickets, please?” The boys handed them over, and she ripped them in half. Giving half a ticket back to each boy, she said, “Be sure to keep your stubs, okay? They’ll get you half-price admission to the Beast House museum over on Front Street.”

“Is it any good?” asked the larger boy. He was tall and gawky, with stringy brown hair that fell past his shoulders. Dark blue sunglasses hid his eyes. He wore a T-shirt that read HOWARD STERN—KING OF ALL MEDIA.

“It’s a must,” Dana told him. “A lot of the actual stuff is over there. Like some of the real clothes the victims were wearing—all shredded and bloody.”

“Oh, cool,” said the Howard fan.

“Way cool,” said his buddy, a short and chubby fellow wearing a Beavis and Butthead T-shirt.

“You guys are gonna love this stuff,” Dana said, then turned away to take down a couple of tape players.

“I love it already,” the Howard fan said.

His friend cackled.

Dana turned around. “Here you go, fellas.” She gave them the players. “Hang these around your necks by the orange straps. It’s a self-guided tour. The tapes are all rewound and ready to go. Just wait till you get to the front porch.”

“Where that stiffs hanging?”

The Beavis and Butthead fan cackled and blurted, “Stiff! He said stiff! ”

Dana laughed and shook her head. “Right. That’s Station Number One, where the stiff is hung.”

“Hung, hung, hung!”

“When you get there,” Dana said, “go ahead and press the Play button. That’s this one right here.” With her forefinger extended, she touched the oblong button on top of the Howard fan’s player. “And this is the Stop button.” She pointed it out on his friend’s player. “After the porch, you go on inside and proceed from station to station. The tape will always tell you what to do.”

“I know what I want to do. Heh-heh.”

“Right,” Dana said. “Maybe some other time. Anyway, feel free to take as long as you wish with the tour. When you’re finished, just bring the tape players back to me.”

“Back to you! Back to you!”

“Please excuse my pal,” the Stem fan said. “He’s a retard.”

“Everything’s cool, guys. Just have a good time in there. And don’t let the beast get you.”

Side by side, the boys walked away from Dana, nodding, nudging each other with elbows, glancing back at her and grinning.

“You’re a natural, babe.”

Surprised, Dana turned around and found Tuck smiling at her from the corner of the ticket booth.

“Hey, how’s it going, boss?”

“Better and better. You were great with those guys.”

“Horny teenagers are my specialty.”

Tuck laughed. “How are you feeling?”

“A lot better.”

“You look fine now. Looks like all you needed was some fresh air.”

“I’m really sorry I crapped out on you.”

“No problem. About ready to grab yourself some lunch?”

“Guess so.”

“I’ll take over for you here.”

“Okay. Fine. Sure you can do without me?”

“No problem. The big rush is over. Anyway, this place can almost run itself—except for the ticket booth.” She glanced around. Then, leaning close to Dana, she said in a hushed voice, “Clyde’ll be going to lunch as soon as Sharon gets here. You might want to take off now and get a head start.”

Dana laughed softly. “Okay. Where does he usually eat lunch?”

“Up the street. Usually at Sarah’s.” .

“So if I go to the snack stand...?”

“Comes highly recommended.”

“See ya,” Dana said, and hurried off. But she slowed down when she found herself closing in on her two teenaged friends.

They stood at Station One near the dangling feet of Gus Goucher, their heads tipped back.

Just my luck, Dana thought, they’ll want to join me for lunch.

Nah. They’re here for the tour, not to bit on me.

Yeah, sure.

Instead of staying on the walkway, which would lead her straight to the boys, she cut across the lawn. This was a more direct route, anyway.

The grass silenced her footfalls. Earlier, it had been wet with dew. Now, it was dry. It felt thick and soft under her shoes. She took a deep breath, savoring the warm smell. A smell of summer.

The scent reminded her of when she was a kid and school was out and she had the whole endless sweet summer ahead of her. For a moment, she felt that way again. But then it slipped away. Like the ghost of the girl Dana, long gone, sweeping through her and giving her an instant of childhood again, then rushing off, snatching it away and leaving an ache for what had been lost.

She sighed.

That’s life, she thought.

Someone yelled, “Hey, Dana!”

She looked over her shoulder.

Both the boys, still at the feet of Gus Goucher, were now turned toward her, smiling and waving.

She waved back and yelled, “Have fun, guys. See you later.”

One of them said something to the other, who nodded eagerly.

Then they started walking toward her.

“Go on back,” she called and waved them away. “Enjoy the tour.”

“Can we come with you?”

“Sorry. Not where I’m going.”

They stopped and looked at each other.

One called, “Going to the John?”

“We’ll, like, supervise.”

“We’ll guard the door.”

“I don’t think so, guys. Thanks, anyway. Bye-bye, now.”

They waved, then turned around and started back. By the time Dana reached the walkway at the corner of the house, they were again staring up at Gus.

She smiled and rounded the corner. It was flattering that they’d been so interested in her, but she certainly didn’t want to spend her lunch break with a couple of horny, awestruck teenagers.