The Stake

pressed his face into the warmth of his pillow. The bed shook slightly Jean getting up. He heard her quiet footsteps on the carpet, then the door latching shut.

Alone in the room, he wondered whether he’d dreamed of Bonnie. If so, he couldn’t remember it. He felt a little disappointed. Mostly though, he felt relieved.

His stomach tightened as he remembered last night’s decision.

After supper Pete had phoned.

“Hey, man,” he’d said, “what’s going on? You freezing me out, or something?”

“No, uh-uh. I’ve just been busy, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, you could’ve let me know what’s going on. You still working on our book?”

“It’s coming along fine.”

“Can you talk? Anyone in earshot?”

“No. Okay here.” He’d grabbed the extension in their bedroom. Jean, he knew, was in the kitchen cleaning the dishes. Lane was in the living room, reading the poetry book her English teacher had loaned her.

“I’ve got a little privacy myself,” Pete told him. “Barb’s taking one of her marathon baths. So look, I think we’ve gotta talk about this thing. You were going like gangbusters over the weekend. Are you all caught up, or what?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, what’s next? Seems to me like we oughta get this show on the road. I’ve been shopping. I got a good deal on a VHS camcorder. Set me back about thirteen hundred, but I figure it’ll be worth it so we can make a video when we pull the stake. Which we oughta do. How about tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night?” Larry hadn’t been able to keep the shock out of his voice.

“Why not? That’s what this is all about, right? Why delay it?”

“There are some loose ends.”

Silence. When Pete spoke again, the pushy edge was gone from his voice. He sounded excited. “What do you mean? What kind of loose ends?”

“I know who she is. I think I know who killed her.”

“Holy shit.”

“It’s a long story. Look, why don’t we meet tomorrow during your lunch break. I’ll tell Jean I’m going to the library. I’ll tell you everything then. How about Buster’s?”

They agreed to meet there at noon.

Now, lying in bed, Larry wondered if he should go through with it. He’d made the suggestion, mostly, as a delaying tactic. Pete had taken him off guard, demanding that they pull the stake tonight.

Larry wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t sure he would everbe ready for that.

What do you want to do, he asked himself, keep her up there forever?

The stake’s the mystery, he thought. Once we take it out, Bonnie won’t... she’ll just be a corpse.

She isjust a corpse.

No. As long as she has the stake in her heart, she’s more than that.

What, a vampire?

Uriah thought so.

And Larry knew he was clutching a faint hope that she mightbe one. It was a ridiculous hope, of course. But pulling the stake would take it away. Bonnie would just lie there, a dried-up cadaver with a hole in her chest, and it would be over.

He would lose her.

He wouldn’t even be able to pretend she might come back to life, fresh and young and beautiful — and his.

So you’re stalling Pete, he thought, trying to keep your stupid dream for at least a while longest.

What’s the harm in that?

Larry climbed out of bed. He stepped to the window and gazed out across his sunlit yard at the garage. He imagined Bonnie in the dark of the attic, lying in her casket, the end of the stake jutting upright from her chest. He seemed to hear her voice, as clear and sweet as it had come to him in yesterday’s dream. Free me. Pull the stake, and I’ll come to you. I love you, Larry. I’ll he yours forever.

Sure, he thought. Fat chance.

* * *

Shortly before noon he told Jean that he needed to check on a few things at the library. He took a large manila envelope with him when he left the house. He drove to Buster’s, a diner near the south end of town, not far from Pete’s shop.

He found Pete waiting in a booth at the rear, and scooted in across the table from him.

“Long time no see, compadre.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

A waitress came, set places for them, and asked if they would like to see menus.

Pete shook his head. “I’ll have the Buster-Burger with the works, chili fries and iced tea.”

“Guess I’ll have the same,” Larry said.

“Making it easy on me, huh, fellas?” she said. Then she went away.

“So what’s the story?” Pete asked.

Larry dug into his pants pocket, took out Bonnie’s ring and set it down in front of Pete. “It’s hers.”

“What?” Pete picked up the ring and squinted at it.

“I found it on her hand.”

Pete frowned at him. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“Well shit, when did you find it?”

“Sunday morning. Before you came over. I know I should’ve told you about it, but...”

“Damn right...”

“I wanted to check on a few things first.”

“Why you been holding out on me?”

“I don’t know, Pete. I just wanted to see where it would lead. I figured I’d lay it on you once I got the whole story.”

“My pal,” he muttered, then studied the ring again. “Bonnie Saxon.”

Hearing Pete speak her name, Larry felt an ache of loss. She was no longer his alone.

“You think that’s her name?” Pete asked.

“I know that’s her name. She was graduated from Buford High in ‘sixty-eight. Like I said, I did some checking.” He opened the manila envelope.

I don’t want to do this, he thought.

But he was already committed. Besides, Pete would find out everything, sooner or later. Best to get it over with.

He slid out the Spirit Queen photograph of Bonnie. It fluttered in his trembling fingers as he passed it to Pete and took the ring back.

Pete’s eyes widened. He pursed his lips. “This is her?”

“Yeah.”

“Man!”

“Yeah.”

“She’s a fuckin‘ knockout.”

“I know.”

He shook his head. “So this is our babe.”

Our babe. I shouldn’t have done it. Should’ve kept her to myself.

“Where’d you get this?”

“A school yearbook.”

“Man, you diddo some checking. What else have you got?”