Maddie Ann s Playground Read online

  Alisa held out her hands in a pleading gesture and stepped closer to the car. A single tear rolled down her pale face. “Don’t go to the graveyard….”

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, huge hands reached from behind the drifter and pulled Alisa into black rolling fog. The girl’s body evaporated, and ascended with the fog into a blood-red cloud above the gas station.

  Jennifer jumped out of the car screaming and sank to the ground. Her knees curled to her stomach and her hands covered her eyes. “Oh my God…oh my God, Claire!”

  Coming out of the store, Claire ran to the car, threw the bag of cokes and chips on the driver’s seat, and helped Jennifer back inside the car. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

  “Claire, we cannot go to the cemetery. This girl…this girl came to warn us not to go. She said if we do someone will kill us!”

  “What girl?” Claire asked looking around.

  “She vanished,” Jennifer whispered with trembling lips. Her eyes widened as she gazed up at the inky sky, “…disappeared in a fog.”

  Claire pulled the car onto the road, cutting the wheels sharply, and took off. “Listen, sweetie, I can assure you, you imagined this,” she said and squeezed Jennifer’s hand.

  Jennifer shook her head and stared out the window. “No, I saw her. She said her name was Alisa Kay and she rattled off another name…Maddie Ann, I think. Then something or someone pulled her into a fog. Claire, please believe me. I know what I saw, damn it, and I’m not going to that cemetery.”

  Claire gave her a peculiar look and turned up the volume on the radio. Jennifer sighed, laid her head back on the seat, and closed her eyes. A few minutes later, Claire turned off the black top and onto a dirt road slowing her speed. She turned on the high beams, and kept her eyes peeled for the clandestine cemetery. It sat a few miles down and off to the left of the gravel road. She pulled the car over on a small patch of grass.

  Jennifer opened her eyes. “Where are we, Claire?” she asked and yawned. She lifted her head and saw the cemetery gates. “What the hell are we doing here?” She screamed and grabbed Claire by the arm. “This is insane. You’re gonna get us killed!”

  Claire shook her off, opened the glove box, and grabbed two flashlights handing one to her. “Come on, Jen, or you’re going to spoil everything,” she retorted, opening her door. “This place is much better than anywhere in Old Creek. Wait until you see it. It’s awesome; especially around this time of year.” Claire’s voice then grew deep and mysterious. “Halloween is when the wicked come out to play. It haunts the grounds in that graveyard. It moans as if it were in pain. Ghosts rise from the cold stiff ground. I’ve heard you can see them at the stroke of midnight trying to pry their way through the gates.”

  “I told you, I’m not going near that place. It’s dangerous!”

  “Well, I guess I’ll just have to go alone.”

  “Claire, don’t,” Jennifer said and slammed out of the car to follow. Tears rained down her chilled face. The harder Jennifer yanked on Claire’s arm, the harder Claire pulled. “I can’t do this…please…don’t make me do this.”

  “Relax, will ya? We’re just here to check it out. After all, you wanted to go someplace exciting and scary. Well, you can’t get any scarier than this.”

  Tall, brittle trees with finger-like branches reached for the onyx sky as Jennifer stood in the middle of an overgrown path that led up a gentle slope. As Claire dragged Jennifer up the crest of the hill, a chilly wind whirled. Wrought iron gates loomed before her.

  “I’m not going another step. We shouldn’t be here,” Jennifer said. She turned to run, but Claire grabbed the back of her jacket.

  “Come on Jen, how could you not like this place?” Claire whined. “Besides, you shouldn’t fear the dead. It’s the living that can hurt you.”

  Jennifer raised the flashlight into Claire’s eyes and leaned into her. “Listen to me; I agreed to scare the girls, but I refuse to go into a place where the devil lives,” she said.”

  Claire let out a short, nervous laugh, and then nudged her playfully. “Do you believe that nonsense? Come on Jen, people make up crap all the time just to keep kids away from places they don’t want them trashing. Chill out, nothing will happen.”

  Jennifer lowered the light and choked back tears. “What are we gonna do if what that girl said comes true? We don’t know anything about the supernatural world.”

  Jennifer glared at Claire with a scowl on her face, watching her stifle a grin. “Do you honestly think I’d take you someplace I thought would get you killed? Get real,” Claire said.

  Jennifer saw the determination on her friend’s face and wondered about the real reason behind Claire’s intent to enter that cemetery. She suspected Mitch Styles had something to do with it.

  Chapter Two

  Claire staggered into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of toast.

  “Well good morning, honey,” Barb said and slapped her on the butt with a newspaper.

  “Hi, Mom. Whatcha doing?” Clair said as she poured milk on her Frosted Flakes.

  “Just checking the grocery ads.” Barb took a sip of coffee. “Hey, are you and your friends ready for the party tomorrow night?”

  “Yeah, close, but I still need to pick up a few items.”

  “Try to get back in time to clean your room, will ya? It’s a mess.”

  “Fine,” she said and wiped the bread crumbs off the table. “You got any spare cash, Mommy? We have stuff to get for the party.”

  Barb rolled her eyes. “I just love the way ‘Mommy’ comes out when you want something.”

  Claire grinned at her. “Well, what can I say? I inherited my mother’s charm.”

  “You inherited your father’s silver tongue,” Barb said and opened her purse, handing her a fifty-dollar bill.

  Claire took the money and hugged her mom. As she started for her room, the garage door opened and her dad rushed through the house with a rag wrapped around his hand. “Daddy…what happened?” she shouted, following him to the kitchen. Claire’s father ran a carpentry business from his garage, making beautiful custom-built furniture.

  “Oh, that son-of-a-bitching blade caught my hand when I cut a slat for that damned bed. I’ll be fine, it’s just a little cut,” he said putting his bloody hand over the sink.

  Barb rose from the chair and rushed over to look. “Mike, honey, that’s a deep cut. I think you’re gonna need some stitches.”

  He ran the cool water over it and pinched the skin together. “Go get me the superglue from the desk. The doc said it works better than stitches.”

  Claire hurried into the den, snatched the glue from the drawer, and raced back to the sink. “Here, let me wipe it dry and I’ll put it on the cut,” she said taking a clean dishtowel from the counter. “There, now it’ll be fine.”

  Mike kissed her on the cheek and held the cut together to dry. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  Barb reached over to help. “Why don’t you leave the bed alone until later and I’ll make you some breakfast,” she said pitching the bloody rag into the utility room.

  “No, I have to have it finished by noon. Carl’s stopping by to pick it up and if I put it off, I’ll be behind.”

  Claire stood back and listened to her parents. She chuckled and darted up the stairs to get ready.

  ***

  On the way to pick up Jennifer, Claire stopped at a 7-11 to grab something to drink. As she stepped past the line at the register, she saw Chelsea Hall standing at the self-serve fountain filling a cup with cappuccino.

  “Hey, Claire,” she said looking down the aisle behind her. “Where are your girlfriends?”

  Claire tried to ignore her.

  “I mean, it’s so unusual seeing you without your gang glued to your hip.”

  Claire scooped ice into her cup and started to fill it with Coke. “What’s it to you, Chelsea? Just mind your own damn business,” she said as she pressed a lid on her cup.

  “Excuse me for asking, lesbo.”
r />   Claire smiled at her. “I’d rather be a lesbo than a floozy,” she said, smiling sweetly.

  Chelsea flipped her off and flounced away.

  Warm lips pressed against Claire’s ear and she jumped. “Tomorrow night’s the big night, Claire.” Butterflies filled her stomach and her heart pounded against her chest as she slowly turned around to face Mitch Styles.

  “Hi, Mitch.”

  “Hello yourself. So you ready to prove what a wild crazy young woman you are,” he said slipping his arm around her waist.

  A warm feeling coursed through her as it did every time she seen him. “All set,” she said.

  “When you enter the cemetery, remember to pay close attention to your surroundings, because it’s not like any place you’ve ever seen,” he said and nuzzled her neck. “Be careful, Claire, or you may not come out alive.”

  “You’re not scaring me, Mitch. I’m not a little kid, I’m a full-grown woman,” she whispered looking at him through her eyelashes.

  When his hand brushed against her chest, a chill went through her.

  “Yeah, a full-grown woman,” he said and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll be waiting for you after the others leave. We have lovin’ to catch up on, sweet Claire.”

  He sauntered away and she took a deep breath, wishing that cemetery stunt already happened. Heading toward the door to leave, Claire saw Chelsea walk over to Mitch, put her arm around his waist, and run her painted nails over his chest.

  She ran out the door to her car and examined her short nails. Damn bitch, she thought and gunned the car out of the parking lot.

  ***

  Claire pulled up in Jennifer’s driveway with a smile on her face. Thinking about Mitch always made her smile and even Chelsea couldn’t ruin the moment. She planned to replace that hussy and have him for herself no matter what she had to do. Just as she opened the car door to get out, Jennifer raced out of the house and jumped in beside her.

  “Hey girl, you said you’d be here like fifteen minutes ago. What took you so long?” she asked, putting on her seat belt.

  “Let’s see. Right before I walked out the door, my dad cut his hand on his saw blade, so I had to help him. Then after I left the house, I stopped by and picked up a soda. Why, you have a date?”

  “No, but Rodney isn’t gonna wait for us forever. Now, are you sure you want to go through with this and get your bellybutton pierced? Does your mom even know you’re doing this?” Jennifer asked, watching out the window.

  “Hell no, she’d kill me. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt me. Let’s just keep this between us.”

  The tattoo parlor sat on the corner of Wrigley and Melton Avenue

  . Claire spotted the parking lot and pulled in determined to have it done.

  Jennifer grabbed her purse. “Are you absolutely sure?”

  “Yeah, why not, Chelsea Hall has hers done. It’s not a big deal. Besides, you’re having it done, too, so why all the fuss?” Claire hopped out of the car and headed inside. Jen followed and held on to her shirt. “Let go of me and sit down over there.”

  Jennifer inched her way to the row of chairs by the window and grabbed a magazine.

  “Hey, you’re going in with me, so be ready,” Claire told her. While she waited for help, she browsed the tattoo drawings on a board. What if she had a small rose or butterfly put on her ankle while she waited on Jen? “Do you think my mom would go ballistic if I got a tattoo?”

  Jennifer looked up from the magazine with a stunned look. “Whoa, wait a minute! You said bellybutton piercing, not tattoos. You’re carrying this a bit far, don’t ya think?” she asked, getting up and walking over to her. “Tattoos make you look nasty and if you get one, you can never get rid of it.”

  Claire kept looking for something cute that would grow with her through age. “I know, but how about the sunflower? It’s not gross looking.”

  Jennifer stepped away from the counter and pulled her toward the sitting area. “Listen, I think you’d be making a big mistake if you do this. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I know who you’re trying to impress and he couldn’t care less. You’re beautiful, Claire, but Mitch only has eyes for Chelsea, and you’re just not her.”

  Claire slumped down in a chair and gazed at the waxy floor beneath her feet. “So you think no matter what I do to improve my looks, Mitch will still see me as plain ole’ me?”

  “You’re not plain, and you shouldn’t feel that way about yourself. Marking your body doesn’t make you beautiful. It’s what’s on the inside that matters,” Jen said and then tapped her on the shoulder. “Why don’t we just forget about the bellybutton piercing and go straight to the mall. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Claire crossed their names off the list and they walked out. She knew Jennifer worried and tried to help, but the burning need to have Mitch outweighed her conscience.

  ***

  Jennifer eyed the entrance to the store with a prudish attitude. “Claire, Victoria’s Secret? I thought you wanted to go to Marshalls?”

  Claire grabbed her by the wrist and headed for the sales rack. “Come on, this is the only place you can buy the panties I’m looking for.”

  As they browsed through the bra section, Claire could have sworn she saw Chelsea Hall out of the corner of her eye. She stepped back to look at the entrance to the changing rooms, but saw no one. Hmmm… she thought, and brushed it off.

  “Here ya go, Claire, how about a pair of fishnet and lace panties? Or…would you prefer a flutter thong?” Jennifer asked, chuckling and dangling them on her finger. “By the way, just who might you be wearing this fancy underwear for anyway?”

  Claire blushed and yanked the underwear off Jen’s fingers to look them over. “I can’t wear these. There’s no crotch,” she replied laying them back on the shelf. “Here, what about a satin thong?”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Sure, you won’t wear anything with a front, but you’ll wear something that gives you a wedgie? Smart.”

  Claire nudged her. “Just hush and let me look, will ya?”

  ***

  Mr. Barton stood in the driveway pulling pieces of plywood out of the back of his truck when Claire and Jennifer drove up. Claire pulled up to the sidewalk and shut off the car, then climbed out and grabbed her packages from the backseat. She put a smile on her face, and tapped the hood to grab his attention. As he looked up at his daughter, he smiled.

  “Hey, Sweetheart, how much money did you spend? I know fifty bucks didn’t buy all that.”

  She held the bags up and shook them teasingly. “Daddy, I’m a smart shopper like you,” she said. “How else could I get all this?”

  Mike rolled his eyes and grinned. “Aye-aye, sweet daughter of mine,” he retorted, saluting like a sailor.

  Claire laughed. She loved when he goofed around.

  As she and Jennifer entered the house through the side door to the mudroom, a roar of laughter resounded from the patio. Claire peeked through the heavy drapes and saw her mother talking with a neighbor. She knew this woman drank heavily and influenced her mother to do the same.

  Jennifer joined her by the sliding glass door.

  “Look how stupid she acts when she’s drunk. A day never goes by without a drink in her hand,” Claire whispered.

  ”Man, I’d be so embarrassed if my mom acted that way. She’s such a prude and never has a good time, but at least she’s not a drinker.” Jennifer peeked out of the curtains, then drew away from the window and sat on the couch.

  Claire glanced over at her friend and felt compelled to come to her mother’s defense. “Are you kidding? I’ve seen your mother party with the best of them,” Claire told her. “I saw her once at the country club—she downed three shots of tequila and a beer in fifteen minutes flat.”

  Jennifer gave her a hard stare. “You’re crazy! When? I can’t remember the last time I saw my mother have fun. She’s too busy yelling at my dad to have a good time.”

  “It's true, I swear. Ask your dad,”
Claire said getting bored with the subject. She sat down next to Jennifer on the brocade sofa and sank into the pillows, waiting for her mom to come inside.

  Claire flopped back on the cushion, clench up her fist, and struck the arm of the couch. “Dad had better do something with her. I can’t stand it when she gets like this and embarrasses me in front of my friends.”

  Jennifer sat up straighter on the couch and rested a hand on Claire’s arm. “Don’t worry about it, Claire. This isn’t worth getting grounded over. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen a drunk before,” she said gazing into her eyes. “My dad drinks every time something doesn’t go his way and that’s like every day of the week.”