Secret window into his soul
folder
S through Z › Secret Window
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
3,031
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Secret Window
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
3,031
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own The Secret Window, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Three
In the morning, the rain had slowed to a light drizzle, and Mort Rainey woke up to the smell of smoke. He sat up hurriedly, momentarily disoriented, then rushed downstairs to see Alice scraping out the blackened contents of a steaming pan. Cassie followed him downstairs just moments later, crashing into his back in her rush.
“Mom! Is everything okay?”
“Well, I’m fine, but I think I killed the hash browns.” She said seriously, then looked up and smiled.
“Good response time, though. You want to grate up some more potatoes while I finish up these eggs?”
“Alright mom.” Cassie said, grinning and shaking her head bemusedly.
“What can I do, Mrs.… Alice?” Mort asked.
“Well, if you want to do the toast…” She said, gesturing towards the loaf of bread sitting in front of the toaster.
“Alright. I know I can do… that.” He said, winking at her, his smile slipping off his face as he heard his own voice, mimicking Shooter’s accent, reciting the ending of his story.
Reminding him of his crimes, his sins…
His wife…
Their dead child…
Her body beneath the corn stalks…
The bodies in the lake…
His dead dog, whose collar, even now, was stained with Chico’s blood and tucked away in the back of his closet.
‘Everyone who gets close to you gets hurt, don’t they, Mort?’ Shooter hissed in his ear.
He gulped, and a sudden image appeared in his mind, Amy’s last moments…
Cassie’s face, tears streaming down her cheeks, her wet hair plastered to her face, not by rain, but by blood, as he stood over her, leaning on his shovel…
His eyeballs rolled upwards into his head as his legs buckled and he fell to the floor.
Distantly, he could hear the Tilbits calling to him, Cassie shouting for her mother to call an ambulance as she knelt next to him, a wet washcloth running across his face.
His eyes fluttered open and closed and he noticed the lights of the ambulance and the stark whiteness of the hospital. He remembered, vaguely, seeing Cassie and Alice smiling with relief and loading him into Alice’s little Jeep to bring him back to their house, the two women being too weak to carry him upstairs, and so laying him on their living room couch, which is where he woke up, completely disoriented, for the second time that day.
Cassie was sitting, legs crossed, in a rocking chair across the room from him. She had a book in her lap and a notebook, and a pencil in hand, with another tucked behind her ear. She bit the eraser as her eyes scanned the page, and she flipped quickly to the next one, and began copying something down.
When he sat up, she looked his way and quickly set her research materials down.
“Unm… sorry. What…?” He groaned… God, his head was absolutely pounding.
“You passed out. The doctors said you were over-tired. You need to get more rest, Mr. Rainey.”
“Yeah. What were you doing over there?” He asked, trying to avoid the subject of why, exactly, he’d fainted.
“Looking up corn recipes. Ever tried Mexican corn chowder?”
“No… sounds good though.” Indeed, his stomach grumbled at the thought. Cassie laughed.
“Mom’s ordering Chinese now. We just got home about half an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry. I mean, I’ll pay for the ambulance and everything.”
“You and mom can figure that out, I’m not getting in the middle. All I know is, mom’s talking about trying to foist me off on you for the weekend so she and her high school flame can go on a sailing trip. So I can take care of you.” Cassie clarified.
“I really don’t think…” Mort began, but Alice walked in.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. Food will be here shortly, and then we’re gonna have a talk, you and I, about how you’ve been taking care of yourself.”
“Yes, little mother over here has already begun preaching at me.” Mort said, nodding at Cassie, who stuck her tongue out at him.
“We’re gonna have to talk about her, too.” Alice said, wrinkling her nose at her daughter’s childish behavior.
Mort sighed, and the doorbell rang.
They ate, Mort trying hard, and failing miserably, at using chopsticks, while Cassie nimbly picked up her food with a plastic pair produced from one of the kitchen drawers.
Alice didn’t even bother, simply digging in to the little box of moo goo gai pan with the plastic fork supplied by Fong’s Chinese palace.
After dinner, while Cassie cleaned up the dinner dishes and started baking a batch of cookies, Mort and Alice sat in Alice’s living room and talked.
“Mort, would you mind if Cassie stayed with you this weekend? I know it’s sudden, but I was going to have the sheriff watch her… she seems to have gotten on his bad side already, and after this episode, it would be better to have her there to keep an eye on you.” Mort held up a hand to cut off any further words.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. The Sheriff hates me, is convinced I killed my ex-wife and her boyfriend, and besides… she’s a teenaged girl, I’m a grown man, and it’s a small town, where people talk.”
“But she’d be with you with my permission. And it’s just three days. Please, Mort?” now it was Alice who sounded like a 17 year old.
“If you have to…” Mort said doubtfully, as Shooter cackled with glee and Mort two groaned. Their voices chimed in unison, one pleased, the other miserable.
‘Three days alone in the house with Cassie.’ Mort wasn’t sure whether to be excited, or to dread it. But it was only Wednesday, he had a whole day to think up a reason she couldn’t stay with him. Why did she need a babysitter any way? But that was tomorrow’s worry; for now, he was just trying to go home, to his nice comfy couch.
But Alice wouldn’t have it.
“Not in this weather, not by yourself. Mort, if I have to tie you to that bed, you’re sleeping over one more night, and that’s final.” He was reminded, suddenly, of a plump cartoon hen, mothering all her chicks. He had to smile at how this thin woman, maybe ten years older than he, made him think of that.
She took his smile as agreement, though, and fussed with his pillows.
A/N: Continued thanks and love for Giggles, my sole reviewer. I hope there are more of you reading who just aren't reviewing, and I hope that you will repent for your wicked ways of making me wonder how I'm doing and just REVIEW!
...ehm. Anyhoo, More in a few days, in the meantime, enjoy the update and review, because the fun will begin, starting next chapter. I know this was short, but I had to get the lead up done. Next time, the insanty and sexiness levels increase. Review my work and add fuel to the fire that is my writing fervor!
Ta Ta For Now,
S.S.
“Mom! Is everything okay?”
“Well, I’m fine, but I think I killed the hash browns.” She said seriously, then looked up and smiled.
“Good response time, though. You want to grate up some more potatoes while I finish up these eggs?”
“Alright mom.” Cassie said, grinning and shaking her head bemusedly.
“What can I do, Mrs.… Alice?” Mort asked.
“Well, if you want to do the toast…” She said, gesturing towards the loaf of bread sitting in front of the toaster.
“Alright. I know I can do… that.” He said, winking at her, his smile slipping off his face as he heard his own voice, mimicking Shooter’s accent, reciting the ending of his story.
Reminding him of his crimes, his sins…
His wife…
Their dead child…
Her body beneath the corn stalks…
The bodies in the lake…
His dead dog, whose collar, even now, was stained with Chico’s blood and tucked away in the back of his closet.
‘Everyone who gets close to you gets hurt, don’t they, Mort?’ Shooter hissed in his ear.
He gulped, and a sudden image appeared in his mind, Amy’s last moments…
Cassie’s face, tears streaming down her cheeks, her wet hair plastered to her face, not by rain, but by blood, as he stood over her, leaning on his shovel…
His eyeballs rolled upwards into his head as his legs buckled and he fell to the floor.
Distantly, he could hear the Tilbits calling to him, Cassie shouting for her mother to call an ambulance as she knelt next to him, a wet washcloth running across his face.
His eyes fluttered open and closed and he noticed the lights of the ambulance and the stark whiteness of the hospital. He remembered, vaguely, seeing Cassie and Alice smiling with relief and loading him into Alice’s little Jeep to bring him back to their house, the two women being too weak to carry him upstairs, and so laying him on their living room couch, which is where he woke up, completely disoriented, for the second time that day.
Cassie was sitting, legs crossed, in a rocking chair across the room from him. She had a book in her lap and a notebook, and a pencil in hand, with another tucked behind her ear. She bit the eraser as her eyes scanned the page, and she flipped quickly to the next one, and began copying something down.
When he sat up, she looked his way and quickly set her research materials down.
“Unm… sorry. What…?” He groaned… God, his head was absolutely pounding.
“You passed out. The doctors said you were over-tired. You need to get more rest, Mr. Rainey.”
“Yeah. What were you doing over there?” He asked, trying to avoid the subject of why, exactly, he’d fainted.
“Looking up corn recipes. Ever tried Mexican corn chowder?”
“No… sounds good though.” Indeed, his stomach grumbled at the thought. Cassie laughed.
“Mom’s ordering Chinese now. We just got home about half an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry. I mean, I’ll pay for the ambulance and everything.”
“You and mom can figure that out, I’m not getting in the middle. All I know is, mom’s talking about trying to foist me off on you for the weekend so she and her high school flame can go on a sailing trip. So I can take care of you.” Cassie clarified.
“I really don’t think…” Mort began, but Alice walked in.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. Food will be here shortly, and then we’re gonna have a talk, you and I, about how you’ve been taking care of yourself.”
“Yes, little mother over here has already begun preaching at me.” Mort said, nodding at Cassie, who stuck her tongue out at him.
“We’re gonna have to talk about her, too.” Alice said, wrinkling her nose at her daughter’s childish behavior.
Mort sighed, and the doorbell rang.
They ate, Mort trying hard, and failing miserably, at using chopsticks, while Cassie nimbly picked up her food with a plastic pair produced from one of the kitchen drawers.
Alice didn’t even bother, simply digging in to the little box of moo goo gai pan with the plastic fork supplied by Fong’s Chinese palace.
After dinner, while Cassie cleaned up the dinner dishes and started baking a batch of cookies, Mort and Alice sat in Alice’s living room and talked.
“Mort, would you mind if Cassie stayed with you this weekend? I know it’s sudden, but I was going to have the sheriff watch her… she seems to have gotten on his bad side already, and after this episode, it would be better to have her there to keep an eye on you.” Mort held up a hand to cut off any further words.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. The Sheriff hates me, is convinced I killed my ex-wife and her boyfriend, and besides… she’s a teenaged girl, I’m a grown man, and it’s a small town, where people talk.”
“But she’d be with you with my permission. And it’s just three days. Please, Mort?” now it was Alice who sounded like a 17 year old.
“If you have to…” Mort said doubtfully, as Shooter cackled with glee and Mort two groaned. Their voices chimed in unison, one pleased, the other miserable.
‘Three days alone in the house with Cassie.’ Mort wasn’t sure whether to be excited, or to dread it. But it was only Wednesday, he had a whole day to think up a reason she couldn’t stay with him. Why did she need a babysitter any way? But that was tomorrow’s worry; for now, he was just trying to go home, to his nice comfy couch.
But Alice wouldn’t have it.
“Not in this weather, not by yourself. Mort, if I have to tie you to that bed, you’re sleeping over one more night, and that’s final.” He was reminded, suddenly, of a plump cartoon hen, mothering all her chicks. He had to smile at how this thin woman, maybe ten years older than he, made him think of that.
She took his smile as agreement, though, and fussed with his pillows.
A/N: Continued thanks and love for Giggles, my sole reviewer. I hope there are more of you reading who just aren't reviewing, and I hope that you will repent for your wicked ways of making me wonder how I'm doing and just REVIEW!
...ehm. Anyhoo, More in a few days, in the meantime, enjoy the update and review, because the fun will begin, starting next chapter. I know this was short, but I had to get the lead up done. Next time, the insanty and sexiness levels increase. Review my work and add fuel to the fire that is my writing fervor!
Ta Ta For Now,
S.S.