The New Neighbor

'Remember I told you I never used to believe in a higher power? That all of this changed that?'

Robby nodded.

'Well, like I said, I'm not gonna send money to any of these tall-haired, diamond-ring-wearing televangelists with a private jet and a few limos. But I do believe in… something. Some force of goodness. And a force of evil. I know that's a touchy topic of conversation, but we don't have time right now to debate our differences of opinion about the… the creator, or… whatever. So, I’ll just say this. I think there’s a piece of both of those forces in all of us. Good and evil. Call it whatever you want, I think we’ve got it in all of us. And it’s up to us which side tips the scale. Sometimes we can influence that scale for others, too. Like right now. Your family. You love them, don’t you?” “Course I do,” Robby croaked. He wanted to say, This is bullshit! Horror movie bullshit! But he couldn't, because he knew he would not believe his own words.

'Well, Robby, you need that love right now. It can help you tip the scales in the right direction for your family. Lorelle is trying to suck that love out of you and replace it with something… bad. She creates hatred where there was once love. You’re seeing it in your family right now. But she can only do that if she’s allowed to do it.” He took a drink of his coffee.

Robby gulped down the lump in his throat. “Well? What do I do? What do we do? To stop her, I mean.'

Prosky put his mug down on the table with a thunk and contentedly smacked his lips. His smile was terribly distorted, but it was still a smile. 'I thought you'd never ask.”

Chapter 15

If I Had a Hammer

Everyone was home. Karen and Jen did not leave that morning. Karen called in sick and when she realized that Jen was not getting ready for school, she asked why.

'I don't feel good,' Jen said.

Karen had hoped to be alone, but Jen didn't look well. 'Okay,' Karen said. 'Whatever you think.'

It was the only time they spoke that morning. They watched television silently, and Karen went back and forth to the coffeepot, trying hard to stay awake. She felt unbearably weary.

George came back from the radio station three hours after leaving the house. Neither Karen nor Jen asked why he was back so early and he did not offer an explanation. He really didn't want to go home because he knew Karen had not gone to work, but he couldn't function. There were ball bearings tied to his eyelids, his shoes were full of metal shavings and his brain was covered with a thick layer of dust. Trying to work was useless, so he gave up and went home.

Karen and Jen were in the living room and they both looked awful. He stuck his head in for a moment, then turned and headed down the hall, pausing a moment to think, they're sick, too. Maybe they need something. Then: Fuck 'em. He went to the bedroom and began changing his clothes. He stopped, naked except for his socks, to frown at himself in the mirror over Karen's dresser.

“Fuck 'em?' he muttered, puzzled by his own callous attitude. He thought, They're sick. Karen takes care of you when you're sick. What's the -

Monroe hissed, shot out from under the bed and clawed at George's feet, coming so close that George felt the cat's saliva splatter his ankle. Anger spewed up from George's middle like lava from a volcano as he kicked Monroe against the closet door, then reached down and took a handful of the cat's flabby flesh. Monroe yowled as George carried him out of the bedroom and down the hall to the front door.

Karen was already out of the recliner and standing in the living room doorway, fists clenched, eyes narrowed. 'No, George, no!' she shouted.

'Everybody else on the street lets their cats outside! What makes this cat any different?'

'He's never been an outdoor cat. He can't take care of himself, he'll get hurt!'

'My ass,' George growled, opening the front door. 'He'll kill anything that moves! He's a cat, not a goddamned retarded blind child!' He flung Monroe out the door; the cat spun head over tail through the air before rolling over the grass with a pathetic screech.

Karen ran after him in her bathrobe, crying, 'You son of a bitch! You goddamned monster!'

She swept Monroe up in her arms, but George didn't stay to watch any more. He turned away, knowing she'd bring the cat back inside. Then he froze. He suddenly realized he was naked.

Jen was staring at him. He didn't make a habit of parading naked in front of his daughter. He felt a rush of embarrassment and thought that she was probably embarrassed, too. But she wasn't.

Jen's gaze was aimed straight at his crotch. Her left index finger was locked between her lips and her checks were sucked in deep beneath her cheekbones. Her right hand was under her robe, between her legs. Her eyes were narrowed in the same way they would be if she were smiling. He realized she’d been watching him for a while, ever since he’d come out into the living room. It looked almost as if she were -

George hurried down the hall, trying not to think about it.

Back in his bedroom, he put on jeans and a blue chambray shirt, ignoring the slight tingle that passed through his cock when he thought of the way Jen was sucking on her finger…

* * * *

Robby knew everyone was home before he went into the house. Both cars were in the driveway and after seeing her still in her robe on his way out that morning, he knew Jen hadn't caught the bus to school. Inside, he hurried straight to his room, giving no one time to speak to him. He dropped his books on his desk, removed his coat and sat on his bed.

He felt as if someone had been pounding his brain with a meat tenderizer. He'd been told too much too fast and was still trying to process all of it. On top of that, he was still heavy with fatigue.

But it ain't the flu, he thought morbidly.

Before dropping Robby off at the corner, Prosky had given him several pages printed off the internet. He'd folded them into a small square and put them in his back pocket.

'Read these today,' Prosky said, 'then meet me here tonight at nine. Bring a sack of burnt woodchips from your fireplace and a dry towel.'

Robby took the papers from his pocket and laid back on his bed to read them. On the first page Prosky had written, From-DEVILS AND ANGELS by Thelonius Pascali, 1962. A quarter of the way down the page was the heading, LILITH AND HER DAUGHTERS.

At first, Robby thought it was the same story Lorelle had told him the night he first saw her sculpture. But as he read on, he realized she had been careful to leave out a few important details.

According to Mr. Pascali, after Lilith fled the Garden of Eden and Adam told god of her rebellion, god sent three angels named Sanvi, Sansanvi and Semangelaf to retrieve her. By the time they found her on the desolate shore of the Red Sea, she was engaged in sex with countless demons and giving birth to a brood of baby girls – as many as a hundred a day, many of which she ate alive between couplings to appease her hunger, which was almost as voracious as her sexual appetite. When she saw the three angels, Lilith was enraged and told them to go away. They told her they'd been instructed by god to return her to Eden. With the blood of her daughters on her lips, she laughingly told them there was nothing in Eden that interested her. She was perfectly happy with her demon lovers.

The angels were appalled by what they saw and watched in horror as Lilith's daughters – winged, reptilian creatures – crawled through the dirt, maturing at an incredibly rapid rate, some of them writhing with the insatiable demons before flying away. Once again, the angels asked Lilith to return with them, saying they dreaded relaying to