“He was such a nice boy.” Betty, the waitress said to Micki. and Ryan. “I remember Pamela used to bring little Jason for an egg and ham sandwich and one of my special berry sundaes.”
“See, Micki, I told you all we had to do is come see Betty.” Ryan said, as he scooped up another spoon full of French vanilla ice cream drenched in chocolate syrup. “She knows anything about anyone here in Crystal Lake.”
“It’s just a shame what happened to that boy.” Betty said absently. “You know Jason killed my husband, Ralph. That was five years after that young counselor girl chopped Jason’s mom’s head off. Ralph tried to warn them. He told them they were doomed. They didn’t listen. Ralph knew things. He knew about Jason…they never listened.”
“You said you knew Pamela Voorhees?” Micki asked.
“Pamela Voorhees?” Betty said absently. “I knew Pamela Voorhees. She wasn’t a very sociable woman, but she loved her son. You know they said Jason’s father wasn’t Pamela’s husband. I heard a rumor that it was her stepbrother. They had a strange relationship. Yeah, people said they were a little too close, if you get my meaning.”
“Incest?” Micki asked, surprised.
“Not exactly.” Betty said. “As I said, he was her stepbrother. Pamela was adopted. Can you call that incest? I know it didn’t look proper.”
“Betty, can you remember Pamela’s stepbrother’s name?” Ryan asked.
“Well, of course I can, Steven Freeman. I know things.” Betty said, her kindly manner now tinted with annoyance. “Uh, his name was…Laurence…no…Larry…no…no…Louie. That’s it. Louie, I think...”
“Can you remember his last name?” Micki asked. Her tone was urgent.
“Um…Vander…Van…Vandrefield…..damn.” Betty said, flustered. “He was even less sociable than Pamela.”
“Don’t worry about it, Betty. It’s not important.” Micki said. “Um…Steven, I think we should get going.”
Ryan looked up at her, his mouth full. It took him a few moments to swallow. “What? You got something?”
“Not here.” She cautioned. ”Back at the house.”
“Ok.” He said, reluctantly. Then he gave Betty a warm smile. “Another success, Betty.”
“You always had a good appetite, Steven. Though you’ve never gotten over being sloppy.” Betty used the edge of her apron and wiped Ryan’s lower lip.
Micki watched this with visible amusement.
Ryan looked at her embarrassed.
As they got up and said their goodbyes to Betty, Micki told Ryan she’d meet him at the truck.
Ryan headed to the cash register and paid the bill.
On the way out he caught sight of Phil Raman sitting at the counter absently stirring a cup of coffee.
“Hey Phil.” Ryan said causally, “How’s things.”
Phil gave him a startled glance and went back to his coffee without a word.
This caught Ryan by surprise. Usually, Phil would hit him with an amusing comment about how “dead” it was at work.
Ryan was about to ask Phil what was wrong when a young woman came up to him and blocked his way.
“You, Steven Freeman?” She asked.
“Yeah.” He said suspiciously.
She held out her hand. “Hi, my name’s Carol Martinez. Me and my friends, over there…” She indicated two young grungy looking guys sitting in the nearby booth, “…are doing a documentary on your local legend…Jason Voorhees.”
“Jason isn’t a legend.” Ryan corrected her. “I saw Jason. That monster nearly killed me and my family.”
“I know. That’s why I want to interview you. I want to get your unique perspective.”
“My perspective is I want to be left alone. That bastard cost me everything that matters to me. You want to talk about Jason Voorhees, there’s lots of other people in this town that get off on this crap.”
“But none of them faced Jason and survived.”
“Yeah, because most of the people who faced that asshole are either dead or permanently twisted by the experience.” He told her. “Get this straight, stay away from me with that Jason crap. Understood.”
“We’re willing to pay.” She said.
Ryan shook his head. “Unbelievable.” Then he pushed past her and headed out the door.
“So, how’d it go, Chief?” asked Shawn Carlyle, Carol Martinez’s shaved headed associate with the dark mustache and goatee.
“What an asshole.” Carol replied angrily as she came up to the table and sat down. “I was polite enough and he bitched me out, Shawn.”
“So, da’ man didn’t go for the money did he, Girlie girl?” asked the white guy with the dreadlocks lounging across from Shawn, in an overdone Jamaican accent.
Carol gave him an annoyed look. “Will you please stop that shit, Jerry, I’m not in the mood.”
“Da’ name is Jamal, and what ya on about, darlin?” He asked innocently, lifting his round rimmed, blue tinted, glasses revealing bloodshot eyes beneath.
Carol waved her hand at him dismissively and tried to calm herself. “Damn it, Jerry, if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re such a good cameraman I would’ve left you at home.”
“Confession is good for da soul, darlin’. Why don’t ya tell me what da problem is?”
“Well, besides the fact that you’re a friggin’ pothead, that damned Jamaican shit is really pissin’ me off. Damnit, Jerry, you’re friggin’ Irish.” She reminded him in frustration. “The closest you’ve ever been to Jamaica is Malibu beach.”
“Jamaica is in da’ heart and soul, darlin’.”
“Yeah, well the least you could do is back off the weed while we’re here. This isn’t California, these people have no tolerance for potheads….”
“I do my best work, darlin’, with da help of da smoke.”
Carol looked over at Shawn for support. Shawn looked back at her with an amused look. “Don’t look at me.” He told her.
She was about to say something, but the waitress came over carrying a tray of food. “Ok, who had the special?” The heavy built woman asked.
“Over here.” Shawn said. The waitress placed a plate with a sizable steak and three eggs in front of him.
“Da’ chili fries are over here, darlin’.” Jamal said enthusiastically.
To Carol’s disgust, the waitress set a quarter pound hamburger in front of her.
“What the hell is this?” She asked. “I ordered a garden burger.”
“And that’s what you got.” The waitress told her. “See the garden greens.” All Carol saw was that it was an ordinary hamburger with lettuce and tomato. “As you ordered, our California Style Garden Burger.”
Carol’s jaw dropped.
Both Shawn and Jamal snickered uncontrollably.
Red faced, Carol let out her breath and held her temper. “Take that thing away and just get me a green salad.”
The waitress shrugged and took the burger away.
“So, what we gonna do now, Chief?” Shawn asked as he cut into the slab of meat before him. “I mean in regard to the project. You promised the professor an interview with Freeman.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it, boys.” She said, glancing down at the empty spot in front of her disappointedly. “I promise you we’ll get that interview. You know me. I don’t take no for an answer.”
Just then the waitress returned and put a plate of lettuce with two cherry tomatoes down in front of her. “I forgot to ask what kind of dressing you wanted.” The waitress said blandly.
“This’ll be fine.” Carol replied. “But, uh…Mary,” she said, catching sight of the waitress’ name, which was stitched in red letters on the right breast pocket of her pink uniform, “how would you like to make a really big tip?”
“What would I have to do?” The waitress asked, suspiciously.
“Oh, nothing much at all.” Carol said slyly. “All you’ve got to do is tell us where someone lives…”
“Come on, Micki, spill it.” Ryan said as he drove down Main Street. “Betty, said something that’s got you going.”
“All I can tell you is I have a suspicion.” Micki admitted. “But, if I’m right, the proof I need is at the Voorhees house.”
“Proof of what?” he asked.
“Possibly, the truth about how Jason was able to return from the dead.”
“Then what are we waiting for.” Ryan said, turning the truck’s steering wheel sharply to the left and making a u-turn. Then he drove out of town and headed onto the dirt road that would take them to the abandoned house that had once been the home of Jason Voorhees and his mother.
Phil sat at the counter in the coffee shop and listened while the stupid California students went on talking about their plans for Steven Freeman.
Well, children, I’ve got plans for dear old Steven myself. Phil thought.
Given our dear Steven’s past association with Jason, I’ll expect you to be very creative and slow when the time comes. The voice said. And, I will expect no less for his lovely companion. Oh yes, Micki, you and Ryan have been a thorn in my side for far too long. The last part sounded to Phil like the voice was talking to itself.
Questions started flooding Phil’s mind, but he knew he dared not ask them; not after the ‘lesson’ the voice had put him through earlier.
Smart boy. The voice said, obviously reading his thoughts. All you need to know is that in the end they will both meet their ends by your most capable hands….