CHAPTER TEN
THE MORNING AFTER
Ryan smelled the aroma of fresh coffee as he drowsily, and stiffly, limped down the hall toward the kitchen. His body still hurt from the beating it had taken the night before.
He silently chided himself for oversleeping. It was well after nine and he knew he needed to get himself together and take care of a few things.
One thing he definitely needed to do was call his partner, Will Peters, and ask him if he could take care of the Army/Navy store for the next few days. He figured he’d explain his need for time away from the store by telling his partner he wanted to spend some time with his cousin, which wasn’t far from the truth. Though, he couldn’t rightly tell him what he and his cousin were going to be doing together.
Upon entering the kitchen Ryan grabbed a mug from beside the sink and poured himself a steaming cup of coffee, thankful the auto shutoff on the coffee maker was broken. He was just taking his first eye-opening sip when he turned and saw Micki slumped over the top of the kitchen table, fast asleep. Her head was resting on an opened volume of Pamela Voorhees’ diaries.
As he headed over to check on her, she started to stir. Groaning sleepily, she looked up at him with squinty eyes. “What time is it?” She asked sitting up and wiping a bit of drool from the side of her mouth.
“It’s a bit past nine.” He said. “Were you up most of the night reading these?” he indicated the majority of the diaries, which were strewn on the floor next to the table.
“I guess I must have been.” She said looking down at the scattered piles of books. “But, Ryan, something happened last night. I talked with the spirit of Pamela Voorhees herself and Creighton Duke.”
“Creighton Duke.” Ryan parroted back at her. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a very detailed dream.”
“It felt like the experience I had at the Voorhees house. You can’t explain that away as being only a dream.”
Ryan had to admit she had a point, yet he still couldn’t just take her word for it. “How did you know it was Duke?”
“Besides the fact that he introduced himself, I don’t know too many black guys these days who could get away with that urban cowboy dress style. Hell, the guy reminded me of Mr. Nightlinger from The Cowboys.”
Ryan was startled by her terminology. He had thought of that character from the John Wayne movie when he first met Creighton Duke.
“I know exactly how Lewis and Pamela brought Jason back from the dead.” She told him. Then she yawned and sleepily rubbed her eyes.
“That’s fantastic,” He told her, “and I’d love to hear about it, but right now I think it would be for the best if you went stairs and get a few hours sleep.”
She looked at him surprised. “What? But, Ryan, I have to tell you what I’ve found out.”
“Micki, you’re exhausted.” Ryan told her. “You’re no good to either one of us like this.” Micki tried to argue but Ryan waved her off. “Anyway, I have urgent business in town and while I’m out I expect you to get some rest.”
“But, Ryan this is important.” She pressed.
“I promise we will sit down when I get back and you can go over it with me to your heart’s content. But right now I have a business to worry about.”
“Your store.” Micki said, the realization hitting her. “What are you going to do?”
“I was just about to call my partner when I saw you.”
“You think he’ll be willing to help you out?” She asked.
“I’m sure.” He assured her. “Will ran that store for ten years before he took me on as a partner, and went into semi-retirement. I’m sure he’ll be itching to get his hands dirty again.”
“Then I guess I’ve got no choice.” Micki admitted, though she didn’t seem completely secure with it. “But the moment you get home you’re going to sit down and listen.”
“I promise.” He said, giving her a two-fingered scout salute.
Then he escorted her upstairs.
He was about to hang out and make sure she actually went to bed, but he didn’t have to. The moment her head hit the pillow Micki was fast asleep.
Ryan headed downstairs and went into the kitchen again. After refilling his coffee cup, he went to the white phone on the wall, picked the receiver, and dialed Will Peters’ number. After a few rings he heard drum music playing in the background as Will’s answering machine message came on. “You’ve reached the residence of retired Army Colonel William Charles Peters. I am ……” Then there was a click. “Hello?” said a slightly out of breath Will Peters.
“Will?” Ryan asked.
“Hey, Steven.” Will said, sounding better. “You caught me just as I got home from my jog. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you could watch the store for me for a couple days.”
“You need some reacquainting time with that lovely cousin of yours?” Will asked, surprising Ryan.
“How…?” Ryan asked.
“This is Crystal Lake.” Will told him as if that explained everything. But then he added, “Very little happens around here that people don’t know.”
“So what do you say about the store?” Ryan asked.
“Sure.” Will said. “I’d love to take care of the old girl for a couple days.”
After that they agreed to meet at the store in forty-five minutes.
After Ryan hung up the phone he drank down his coffee and rushed up stairs to get dressed.
Wake up, fool. The voice screamed in Phil Raman’s head.
“What!” Phil said quickly sitting up from behind the clump of brush he was laying behind. Due to pain his hunger for the mask caused him Phil had barely managed to relax enough to go to sleep in the first place. Now that he’d been jarred awake the pain nauseated him to the point where he nearly threw up.
Freeman’s leaving. The voice informed him. We must follow him.
Bleary eyed, Raman looked over at the house and saw Freeman heading down the path toward the blue truck.
Hurry, we must get back to the car before he gets away.
Phil didn’t argue. He knew even if he wanted to it would be unwise to provoke the voice. So, he slipped through the bushes trying not to be noticed. Once he was out of sight of the house he forced himself to start running through the woods toward his car’s hiding place.
Damnit, if he gets away I’ll make you suffer for it! The voice threatened as he ran.
“I’m doing the best I can, damn you!” Phil cursed back, though he wanted to laugh. He doubted the voice could hurt him any worse than he felt at that moment, but he didn’t want to bet on it.
Then he caught sight of the back of his car in the distance. He also saw Freeman’s truck speeding down the dirt road not too far behind him.
Freeman’s truck had just past his car’s hiding place, the dust cloud still heavy in the air, when Phil reached the hiding place. After rummaging around his pants pockets for the car keys for a few seconds, Phil opened the car door, jumped inside, and started the engine. The engine groaned unhappily, but didn’t die.
Slowly, Phil backed the car out of the bushes and took off down the road after Freeman’s truck.
Hurry up! The voice pushed.
“We don’t want Freeman to see us.” Phil reminded the voice.
We don’t want to lose him either. The voice said back.
“Don’t worry I know what I’m doing.” Phil said as he turned off the dirt road onto the main road. Freeman’s truck was barely visible in the distance.
You’d better be very sure about that, the voice said, for your own sake.
Phil sped up the car a bit, but still kept Freeman’s truck a good distance away. He kept this up all the way into town.
“I must say you’ve done wonders with this place.” Will Peters said, as he counted out the till.
Ryan was standing on the other side of the cash register watching him. Even after two hours he still hadn’t gotten used to seeing his former boss wearing a light blue jogging suit. In the ten years he’d known Will Peters he’d never seen him wear anything but military clothes. Even when he was Ryan’s best man at his wedding Will wore his dress blues.
“But then you always were the idea man, Eh, Steven.” Will continued.
“If I recall that wasn’t always an attribute you admired about me.” Ryan reminded him.
“Yes, it took some time but you wore me down.” Will said, laughing with amusement at the reminiscence. “But I must say I’m surprised that you’d get on the band wagon, so to speak, and have anything to do with all this Jason rubbish.”
Ryan was confused for a moment, but then he realized what Will was getting at. On the wall behind the main counter, near the door to the back stock, was a display of knives. Among the knives was a machete with the name CRYSTAL LAKE painted in drippy looking blood red letters on the blade.
Ryan looked over at the machete and waved it off. “Oh, yeah. The thing is I have the same distributor as Ross McCade at The Crystal Lake Souvenir Shop, so when I last restocked I got stuck with those. The distributor promised to replace them as soon as he gets some regular ones in.”
“Good, I would have been very disappointed in you.” Will said with relief. “Especially after everything that has happened.”
“Hell, Will, you know me better than that”
“I don’t know about that.” Will said seriously “Mary at the coffee shop was telling me that you and your cousin were asking Betty about Pamela Voorhees.”
“Actually, it was Micki who was doing the asking.” Ryan admitted. “She’s doing research for a book on Pamela Voorhees.”
“Oh, really?” Will said, seeming a bit overly interested. “So brains as well.”
This last comment caught Ryan by surprise.
“Well it was a smart idea to take her to Betty.” Will continued.
“Yeah, I figured since Betty is the big ear around town she’d definitely know something.”
“Actually, I meant because Betty was one of Pamela’s best friends. Her and Ralph were closer to Pamela and Elias than anyone in this town, that includes the Christies.”
“What you mean?” Ryan asked confused. According everything he’d heard it was the Christies the Voorhees had been close friends with.
“Though Pamela and Elias may have acted cozy with the Christies in public the truth was both of them thought the Christies were stuck up snobs. The only one Pamela had any affection for was Steve Christie, and you know how that ended.”
Ryan nodded. He definitely did remember reading about how the sheriff found Steve Christie’s mercilessly butchered body hanging from the branch of a tree near the main cabin.
“Anyway, Ralph and Betty were constantly over at the Voorhees’ house.” Will continued. “In the old days you always saw Elias and Ralph together either going fishing or hunting.”
“That’s odd because Betty gave me the impression she barely knew Pamela.” Ryan told him.
“It’s probably a very sensitive issue with her. I recall she and Pamela went their separate ways after Elias had his accident.”
Ryan looked at Will, his curiosity piqued. “I’ve heard the story about how Pamela died, but I’ve never heard about what happened to Elias. You said it was an accident?”
“Yeah, Elias and Ralph were out hunting. It was right after we had four days straight of rain.” Will told him. “An old tree tipped over on top of him and he was impaled through the heart by a broken branch.”
“And no one questioned that story?” Ryan asked surprised. “It sounds a bit fishy to me.”
“I thought the same thing when I heard it the first time. But, the sheriff at the time did an investigation and confirmed Ralph’s story.”
Still, the story didn’t ring true to Ryan. He figured there had to be more to it.
“Oddly enough it wasn’t long after Elias’s death that Ralph started drinking, preaching, and claiming that Camp Crystal Lake had a death curse.” Will added.
“And what about Pamela?” Ryan asked.
“From what I heard, after the accident Pamela became more reclusive. It was less than a year later that she had her breakdown and was committed.”
“I hadn’t heard Pamela had been committed.” Ryan had to admit. “So that’s why Diana was raised by the Kimbles.”
“Pamela only got out of the institution three years before she committed the murders at Camp Crystal Lake.” Will told him. “I’m surprised you didn’t know.”
“If you recall my mom and I moved to Crystal Lake a few years after the murders.” Ryan reminded him. “By that time the townspeople were very closed mouthed about anything dealing with Pamela Voorhees.”
Phil Raman leaned against the wall next to the display window of the Army/Navy store drinking a cup of coffee out of a paper cup and eating a chocolate cupcake he’d gotten from the grocery store across the street The voice in his head had been very angry with him for leaving his “post” just to stuff his face. But, Phil had been extremely hungry. The last time he’d eaten had been just after he and Doctor Bob had returned from the murder scene at Crystal Hill, nearly forty hours earlier.
Satisfied now? The voice asked.
Phil dropped the cupcake wrapper on the ground and pulled the Ziplock bag out of his coat pocket that held the two pickled eggs he’d bought as well. “Nearly.” He said aloud, bending down and putting his coffee cup on the small ledge under the display window. Then he opened the bag and one by one downed the two eggs. He hardly chewed and let the sour tasting delicacies slide down his throat. “Breakfast.” He said with a satisfied groan.
I hope it was worth it to you. The voice said, with disgust. Be thankful Freeman was still here when you returned. You definitely wouldn’t have enjoyed the alternative.
Phil bent down and retrieved his cup of coffee. “Think of it this way, I wouldn’t be of much use to the plan if I let myself become weakened from hunger.”
“So there you are.” He heard someone say from behind him.
Startled, Phil turned and hot coffee from his cup sloshed over his hand. He yelped and dropped the cup, sending it’s contents splattering on the ground in front of him.
“My god, man, what have you done to yourself?” Sheriff Landis said as he approached.
“I’m fine.” Phil said, rubbing his reddened, stinging, hand. The burn looked worse than it was, but it would still be an irritant to him.
“Have you looked at yourself lately. You look like shit.” The Sheriff sounded almost concerned.
“I haven’t been feeling good.” Phil told him, allowing a trace of the irritation he felt to come through. “Is there some reason for your visit, Sheriff?”
Sheriff Landis seemed slightly annoyed. “Actually, there is. Your boss has been looking for you. If you recall you’re supposed to be helping him with the autopsies of those kids from the latest set of murders.”
“I told you, Sheriff, I’m not feeling good. The only reason I’m out of bed right now is because I needed to get something in my stomach.”
“Well, boy, you really need to get on the horn and let Bob know.” The sheriff informed him. “He told me he’d been calling your place and paging you all day yesterday.”
“Fine, I’ll call him.” Phil said, annoyed. “Is there anything else?”
“Just that you should go see the doctor before what you have turns serious.”
“I’m hoping it will.” Phil said under his breath.
“What was that?” The Sheriff said.
“I said I’ll look into it.” Phil lied.
“You do that.” The sheriff said, turning around and starting back to his patrol car, which was parked at the corner.
Phil watched him leave and imagined how satisfying it would be to stick a knife in that loudmouthed jackass’ back.
In time, my friend, the voice said, in time.
“So since your cousin is researching a book, she’ll probably be hanging around for a bit.” Will said, with a nervous grin, as he walked Ryan to the front door of the store.
“Is there something you wanted to ask me about Micki?” Ryan asked. “You’ve been acting like a high school boy wanting to ask the most popular girl to the prom.”
“I have?” Will said, his face turning crimson with embarrassment. “Actually I was interested in finding out if she would be around for The Winter Festival. I would be very interested in asking if she’d allow me to escort her to the Winter Ball.”
This totally blew Ryan away. Will and Micki on a date!
But then Ryan realized that there wasn’t all that much difference in Micki and Will ages. He realized he’d been seeing Micki through the blinders of his past. The truth was that while he had grown up all over again Micki had aged eighteen years. She was now a fifty year old woman.
“I’ll definitely ask her about it.” Ryan said finally.
“Thank you, Steven.” Will said, a look of relief on his face. “So where you off to now?”
“To do a little research of my own.” He said, as he headed out the door.