The New Magic - The Revelation of Jonah McAllister - Landon Wark (bill gates best books TXT) 📗

was not afraid of death sneaking up on him, he was afraid of death sneaking into the space between the two of them in the car and in the house and in the bedroom. He had fought tooth and nail to keep it from doing so, keeping it forcefully out of his thoughts in case a stray one here or there would allow it to squeeze in, but his efforts went unrewarded. Death had a way of being inevitable in more ways than one.

Lights shone out of the house windows and onto the gravel. Every one was lit and the house was alive, full of light. All that were missing were Christmas decorations and snow on the roof.

Or an axe murderer on the lawn, he thought before catching himself.

Jenny sighed mournfully as he opened the driver’s side door.

“Let’s go home, Bill.”

He stopped moving. There was no way he was going back to that gloom she called a home.

“We’re already here,” he replied. “We might as well.”

“I just don’t feel like it.”

“It’ll do you good to be around people.” He surveyed the lawn in front of the house wondering if the lack of other cars was indicative that other people were going to show up.

“Let’s just go home, Bill.”

He grit his teeth. The time was fast approaching for something to give. They both knew it and honestly, he was sick of waiting. If something had to blow then it might as well be sooner rather than later.

“Fine, take the car and go. I’ll take a cab back or... I don't know, get a ride or something.”

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes had a paralytic hold on him and he found himself unable to move. His muscles tensed and pulled the door back for a moment before his resolve steeled and he was out of the car, marching calmly up the gravel toward the front door.

Jenny was after him quicker than he had expected. In fact, he had expected her drive off. But nonetheless her shoes scraped in the gravel and then she was beside him at the door.

“I don't want to be here,” she moaned as he rang the doorbell.

“Do you think we should have brought something?” Bill straightened his tie and waited for the door to open.

Jenny's reaction when the large woman darkened the doorway was a rare look into the small portions of her mind that could still be surprised, that could still care about things. It was odd for Bill to think that maybe she had paid attention to the gossip that supermodels had moved in outside of town and had her expectations dashed when the woman had answered the door.

The two of them awkwardly looked around the entrance with its hardwood floors and various kinds of rugs. Artwork from a lacklustre department store, assembled on multiple, random themes hung sloppily in low light, looking to have been picked more on price than beauty. Down the hall a large stairway led off on a ninety degree angle to the upper floor and two long rugs led off into different parts of the house. This woman might (likely) not be a supermodel, but she did know the best way to spend money, pointlessly.

There were hasty introductions all around.

“Our shoes?” Jenny asked nervously.

“You can just leave them by the door,” their bloated hostess replied. “I’ll go get Jonah, he’s usually out back working.”

Bill was stammering out a question about what was going on when she disappeared down one of the rug-laden halls.

“Quick for a big girl,” he muttered.

Jenny elbowed him in the chest. “Let’s just get out of here, Bill.”

“What for?”

“I just don’t feel like being around people.”

He sighed. “An hour. That’s all, just an hour, then we’ll go.” He said it with conviction though he was having doubts. He had expected there would be other people here, like a dinner party or even one of Jenny’s dreaded TimeShare pitches. If they were going to be the only two here, maybe it would be better that they slip away quietly. No. He needed that one hour.

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

She wandered a few steps toward the edge of the hall to get a look at a nearby painting, feigned interest in it for a moment and then went to the next. He could tell that she would not make brilliant conversation for the rest of the hour. A twinge of regret gripped him. If there was anything he didn’t wish on these people, whoever they were, was for them to have to share the silence that existed between what used to be the Hernandezes.

“Bill? Jenny?” the fat face poked around the corner and they swivelled toward it. “There’s food on the table. Jonah won't be joining us. I’m sorry, he, um, doesn’t always remember to make nice.”

In the dining room, with its heavy mahogany table and red rugs, china hutches and chandelier stood a table. Upon the table were a set of platters with food, steam still rising off it. Although the smell of it hinted at the days before the cold-cafeteria leftovers, both Bill and Jenny recognized the look of take out shovelled onto the generic platters. They knew it well. At least the food was hot.

Sandy took advantage of a moment of having her face turned away from the couple to let out a long breath and looked towards the rear yard and small cabin hidden within the trees. Light streamed onto the backs of the closed green curtains flanking the heavy locked door, immediately evoking the question: 'What is he doing in there?'

"What're the odds of these two just... What's the phrase? Bugging out?" she heard Jonah's voice in her memory.

She pushed past a moment of guilt. Finding people who needed something to latch onto in this area was not hard. Economic depression was