EIGHT

Gloria awoke in the middle of the night with the feeling that something was wrong.

Next to her, Benjamin was dead to the world after a long tiring day. She’d been sleeping on her back, but he was on his side, one arm thrown around her midsection, a strong erection pressing against her thigh, though they’d had sex earlier and she thought she’d drained him dry. The house was silent, and she carefully extricated herself from his embrace without waking him, pulled on the panties she’d left on the floor and pushed down her nightie. She wanted to check on Jeannie to make sure she was okay, and she tiptoed across the floor and opened the door, sneaking into the hall.

The feeling that something was wrong had grown stronger.

Jeannie’s door, as always, was wide open, and Gloria saw with relief that her daughter was sleeping peacefully. She had kicked off all her blankets and had somehow twisted herself around so that she was sleeping sideways on the bed. It was cute, and Gloria was tempted to get her phone and take a picture, so she could show it to Jeannie in the morning, but she was still filled with the nagging sense that something was amiss.

Could it be her grandma?

The worry solidified into a certainty as she continued down the hall toward her grandmother’s room. Knocking softly and receiving no answer, Gloria pushed open the bedroom door, expecting, hoping, to see the old lady fast asleep in her bed.

But the bed was still made.

And her grandmother, wearing an old-fashioned white shift, was standing before the dresser mirror, staring at herself. The room was too dark for Gloria to see any facial expressions, so she reached for the switch on the wall and turned on the ceiling light. She expected that to break the trance or at least generate some sort of reaction, but her grandmother remained exactly where she was, and the light allowed Gloria to see that the old woman was not staring blankly at herself in the mirror, as she had assumed, but was actively frowning, glaring at her own image, her face twisted into a mask of anger and disgust.

“Grandma!” Gloria said, startled.

The old lady turned to face her. “You shouldn’t have married him. He shouldn’t even be here. Now…”

Gloria did not even have a chance to respond. Her grandma turned, strode purposefully across the room, opened the window, then pushed her way through the screen, squirming headfirst over the sill and onto the front lawn. Shocked, Gloria remained in place for a beat too long, unsure of whether to run to the window, hurry outside through the front door, or call for Benjamin. Finally dashing over to the window and looking through the woman-sized hole in the screen, she saw her grandmother stand, then race out to the sidewalk.

Panicked and frightened, Gloria rushed down the hall and through the living room, quickly unlocking and opening the front door, running into the night, leaving the door open behind her. Though she looked up and down the sidewalk in both directions, there was no sign of her grandmother. Acutely aware that she was barefoot and in her nightie, Gloria reluctantly returned to the house. Where could her grandma have gone? And why? Apparently it had something to do with Benjamin?

She had no idea what to do next, whether she should wake her husband (quietly, so as not to disturb Jeannie) and tell him what had happened, call the police and let them know a mentally unstable woman was roaming the streets of Brea, or just wait and see if her grandmother came back of her own accord. Unable to make a decision, Gloria opted for the latter, preferring to believe that her grandma had not suffered a mental breakdown but was just experiencing something similar to sleepwalking, a temporary incident that would soon be over. She left the front door unlocked and parked herself in the chair her grandma usually sat in.

Although Gloria had intended to stay awake all night, she must have dozed off, because she was awakened by a kiss on the forehead from Benjamin. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.

She opened her eyes. “Couldn’t sleep,” she lied.

He looked worried. “Is anything wrong?”

She stood, giving him a quick hug. “No,” she told him. “Everything’s fine.”

Outside, the sun was up, and she both heard and smelled her grandma making French toast in the kitchen.

For a moment, Gloria thought that she’d dreamed the whole thing, but when she walked into her grandmother’s bedroom and saw the open window with the torn screen, she knew that it had really happened. It was Saturday, so Jeannie was sleeping in. Benjamin had just gone into the bathroom, which gave Gloria a chance to confront her grandma directly.

Except…

She was afraid to do so. She stood outside the kitchen door, listening to her grandma hum an old Elvis ballad while placing a piece of French toast into a sizzling frying pan, and realized that she did not want to be alone with the woman. Of course, she wanted to know what had happened, but how could she bring it up? What would she say? Why did you crawl out the window last night? Where did you go? What did you mean when you said Benjamin shouldn’t be here?

She imagined walking into the kitchen and seeing her grandmother turn toward her with that angry expression on her face.

Luckily, Jeannie emerged from her bedroom at just that moment. She saw Gloria and ran up to give her a hug. “Mommy!”

Gloria kissed the top of her head. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“I smelled breakfast. That’s why I woke up.”

“Want to go in and see what Gram-Gram’s making?”

“Yeah!”

The two of them walked into the kitchen and everything seemed normal. Her grandmother looked up from the stove and smiled. “Pour yourselves some orange juice.” She flipped over the piece of French toast in the pan. “Who’s ready for the first one?”

“I am!” Jeannie called, and hurried over to get a plate.

“Where’s Benjamin? Isn’t he up yet?”

Gloria stared at her grandmother, unsure of how to respond. Should she just pretend everything was normal and move on? Or should she demand to know what the hell had happened last night? Not wanting to get into a confrontation in front of her daughter, Gloria opted for the latter. “Bathroom.”

Her grandma was wearing her bathrobe, and Gloria wondered if she still had the shift on under it. From the way she’d gone out the window onto the lawn, the white material had to be stained with dirt. If the old lady attempted to deny what had happened, that would be proof. That and the torn screen.

Gloria had a sudden inspiration. “What happened to the screen in your room, Grandma?”

Her question was met with a confused frown of seeming sincerity. “What?”

“I was walking by your room and saw a big hole in your screen. A hole big enough for a person to crawl through.”

“Like a burglar?” Jeannie asked, eyes wide.

Her grandmother dismissed their concerns. “Oh, I noticed that, too. It’s nothing.” She popped a piece of French toast onto Jeannie’s plate and smiled brightly. “Do you want another one or should I give it to your mom?” She dipped a piece of bread into a bowl of egg wash.

“Mommy can have it. I’ll take the next one.”

Benjamin entered the kitchen, scratching his head. “Smells good. What’re we having? Pancakes?”

“French toast!” Jeannie said.

“Mmmmm!”

Gloria knew she’d lost her chance, so when her grandmother jokingly told Benjamin to pour himself some coffee and wait his turn, she reluctantly sat down next to him. She’d talk to her grandma later, in private.

After breakfast, Benjamin went off to take his shower while Jeannie moved over to the living room to watch TV. Gloria was left alone with her grandmother, and though she wanted to bring up last night, she remained where she was, at the table, drinking coffee in silence. She felt ill at ease around the old lady now. They both knew what had happened, but Gloria was not sure if her grandma would admit to it even when they were alone.

And if she did admit it…?

Gloria could think of no rational explanation for what she had seen and had no idea how her grandma could possibly explain her bizarre behavior. She watched as the old lady picked up Jeannie’s dish and cup and put them in the sink, the back of her neck prickling. Gathering her courage, Gloria cleared her throat.

The doorbell rang.

Her grandmother looked at her pointedly. The expression on her face was hard, with none of the kindliness or affability she had exhibited when Jeannie and Benjamin were in the kitchen. “Are you going to get that?”

Gloria rose without replying. Jeannie was sitting on the living room floor in front of the television, watching the most recent iteration of Scooby Doo, and she walked past her daughter, opening the front door just as the bell rang again. Sadeen and Myla, their next door neighbors, were both standing on the porch. Ordinarily, the couple was cheerful and friendly, but today they seemed serious, overly serious, almost angry. “Good morning,” Gloria said warily.

“Not really,” Myla said.

“Could we speak to you alone?” Sadeen asked. He was looking over her shoulder at Jeannie on the floor.

Gloria stepped outside, unlocking the door before closing it behind her. Feeling uneasy, she addressed them both. “What’s wrong?”

Sadeen had taken out his phone.

“Benny was killed last night,” Myla said.

Benny

“Our cat?” she prodded when Gloria clearly couldn’t place the name. There was a note of angry annoyance in her voice.

“I know,” Gloria lied.

Benny

Myla and Sadeen looked at each other. “The thing is,” Sadeen said, holding out his phone for her to see, “our doorbell cam caught it.”

He played the video, and Gloria’s heart sank as she saw her grandmother crawl out of the bushes to the left of the Lhasas’ front porch on her hands and knees. She was wearing the white shift, and though the background of the video was dark, the foreground was well-lit by porchlight, and her face was clearly visible. The timestamp said: 2:46 a.m.

From the right side of the porch, Myla and Sadeen’s cat—

Benny

—strolled over. The fluffy orange tabby sidled affectionately up to her grandmother, who promptly shifted to a sitting position, picked up the animal with both hands and twisted off its head. Blood spurted onto the corner of the welcome mat visible to the camera and the cement of the stoop. Her grandma tossed the body into the bushes from which she had crawled, rolled the head in the opposite direction, then stood, smiling crazily, and ran into the darkness toward the street.

Gloria felt sick to her stomach, and her arms were covered with goosebumps.

“We’re going to show this to the police,” Sadeen said. “But we thought you ought to see it first.”

“She’s sick!” Myla said, and there was fear beneath her anger. “There’s something wrong with her!”

Gloria glanced back at the closed door behind her. “I know.”

“She needs to be put away!”

“You’re right,” Gloria said. “Take that to the police. Show them.”

Myla and Sadeen looked at each other.

“There is something wrong with her,” she told them. “And it’s not something I can handle myself. Show that to the police.” Gloria suddenly realized that, with Benjamin in the shower, Jeannie was alone with her grandmother. “I have to go,” she said, turning to open the door. “And I’m sorry about Benny. Really.”

Once inside, Gloria smiled at Jeannie, seated on the floor. “Stay there, sweetie. I need to talk to Gram-Gram.”

Jeannie didn’t even look up. “Okay.”

Gloria walked into the kitchen. There was a thunk beneath her feet as Benjamin shut the shower off in the bathroom and water stopped flowing through the pipes. Her grandmother, putting butter, orange juice, jam and milk back into the refrigerator had her back to the door. “The Lhasas showed me footage from their security camera. You killed their cat.”

“Did I?” Her grandmother still did not turn around, and Gloria was suddenly filled with the certainty that when she did, her face would be that of a monster.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

The old lady closed the refrigerator door and turned to face her. She looked the same as she always did. “I told you not to marry him,” she said calmly.

“Benjamin, Jeannie and I are going to move into Benjamin’s house,” Gloria said, pointing her finger. “You can stay here. But you are not to have any contact with Jeannie, do you understand me? No contact. If you so much as call our phone, I’m going to get a restraining order against you, and I’ll have you kicked out onto the street.”

“Your own grandma?” She smiled.

“And, by the way, the Lhasas are showing their footage to the police. So you’ll be lucky if you don’t end up in jail.”

The smile grew wider. “Or a mental hospital?”

“That’s where you really belong.”

“I’m going to kill him. You know that, don’t you?”

Gloria’s breath caught in her throat.

Her grandmother stroked her chin in perfect parody of a person thinking. “I just haven’t figured out how, yet. Should I get it over with quickly or make him suffer?”

Gloria backed slowly away. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe so,” her grandma admitted. “Maybe so. But that doesn’t change the fact that your loving hubby is not going to last the month.” She leaned forward, her expression one of sudden intensity. “He’s supposed to be dead! He needs to die!”

Gloria turned and strode purposefully out of the kitchen. “Jeannie!” she shouted. “Get out of your PJs and put your clothes on!”

“But I’m watching—”

“Now!”

She ushered her daughter down the hall and closed the bedroom door once Jeannie was inside. “I’ll be back in a minute to help you pack. Don’t let Gram-Gram in.”

“Where are we going?” Jeannie called from behind the closed door.

“We’re moving.”

“Is Gram-Gram really crazy?”

Little pitchers, Gloria thought. “Yes she is,” she said. “That’s why we’re leaving.” She pushed open the door of the bathroom across the hall. Benjamin was in his underwear and shaving. Leftover steam from the shower still fogged up the small space. Their eyes met in the distorting wetness of the medicine cabinet mirror. “We need to go,” Gloria said quietly. “I’ll tell you why on the way. Just hurry up and get dressed so we can get out of here.”

“On the way where?” Benjamin asked, wiping shaving cream off his face with a washcloth.

“Your house. We’re moving there.”

He lowered his voice. “Is it your grandma?”

“I’ll tell you later. Just get dressed and get packed so we can go. I’m going to help Jeannie with her suitcase.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were packed and ready to leave. They were taking only the basic necessities—she and Benjamin would come back for the rest of their things at a later time, hopefully when Jeannie was in school and Gram-Gram was locked up—and they loaded their suitcases in the car without saying goodbye. She assumed her grandmother was still in the kitchen, but Gloria was not about to check; she did not want to see the woman.

Benjamin’s house was dirty and musty, but it felt instantly welcoming. Upon arrival, Gloria immediately felt as though she’d come home. Her own house was strange to her now, and she never wanted to go back.

In her mind, she saw her grandmother squirming over the bedroom windowsill in her shift, saw her in the security footage twisting off the tabby cat’s head and smiling crazily as she bowled it off the Lhasas’ stoop.

Gloria shivered.

She had no idea what was going on here. Except…on some level, it felt like she did. Or, rather, that she should. Beneath the worry, horror and incomprehension, there was, for some reason, a lack of surprise. What she’d seen had shocked her, but it was not as unbelievable as it should have been, and Gloria understood that she was reacting far more calmly than the situation called for or than a person would ordinarily.

The three of them spent the rest of the morning opening up the house and terraforming it to the needs of their family. Gloria could tell that Benjamin wanted a more complete description of what was going on than she’d been able to give him, but he also knew that she could not give him that description with Jeannie around, and she loved him for his understanding. Finally, just before lunch, Jeannie announced that she had to go to the bathroom, and Benjamin told her to use the one off the master bedroom, it was cleaner. As soon as Jeannie was gone, he turned to look at Gloria, eyebrow raised quizzically.

“You’d better sit down,” she said. “You’re not going to believe this.”