Tommy Nightmare (Jenny Pox #2) Read online

  Tommy Nightmare (Jenny Pox #2)

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter One:

  Tommy Nightmare

  by

  J. L. Bryan

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2011 Jeffrey L. Bryan

  See more J.L. Bryan books on Smashwords

  Smashwords License Statement: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

  The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Tommy heard the clatter in the hall, then a loud thump, followed by the old man muttering. The old man typically blabbered long streams of incoherent mush, which occasionally contained a fully-formed word or two along the way.

  Tommy tried to ignore the gibbering voice outside the door. Nobody else stirred at the sound. The other foster boys—Luke, and Jeb, and Isaiah—continued sleeping in the double bed they shared next to his.

  Tommy had a bed to himself, though the boys were supposed to share them two apiece. None of the other boys would sleep with Tommy because it gave them nightmares. For the first couple of months Tommy had been here at the Tanners’ house, the two older boys—Luke, who was fifteen, and Jeb, who was thirteen—forced eight-year-old Isaiah to sleep with Tommy.

  Nearly every night, Isiah’s screaming and crying woke them all. In fact, Isaiah screamed his head off any time Tommy touched him. Tommy sometimes had that effect on people, especially if they were already scaredy-cats.

  Eventually, Luke and Jeb showed mercy and let Isaiah sleep with them, probably just so they could have peace at night. Tommy had slept alone for a couple of years now.

  Luke called him “Tommy Nightmare.” The younger boys had taken up the nickname, too.

  In the hall, the old man’s muttering grew louder, accompanied by the sound of fingernails scratching the wall. The old man was just lingering there, on the other side of the wall from Tommy, making his pathetic blabbering and whimpering noises.

  The old man was Mr. Tanner’s father, and he lived in a room down the hall, next to the master bedroom where Mr. and Mrs. Tanner slept. The Tanners had no children of their own—as they put it, “The Lord had a different plan.” They only had the four foster boys currently entrusted to them by the State of Oklahoma.

  Outside the door, the old man’s scratching and gibbering grew more insistent. Tommy sighed and slipped out of bed. The night was freezing cold, and the Tanners only gave him worn old pajama pants to sleep in, because they said suffering was good for a child’s soul. The hardwood floor was so cold it burned his bare feet.

  He tiptoed around the other bed, where the three other boys looked very warm, and he felt a pang of jealousy.

  He eased open the door, wincing at the creak. He didn’t want the other boys to wake up and start yelling at him. And he really, really didn’t want to wake up Mr. Tanner.

  Tommy peeked out into the hall.

  Mr. Tanner’s father—whom Mr. Tanner insisted the foster boys call “Pap-pap”—lay sprawled on the warped old boards, one arm draped across his overturned walker. His shaking, liver-spotted hand grasped and released the walker frame, over and over again. Tommy thought of a fish freshly pulled from the creek, how its mouth kept opening and closing as it died.

  The old man faced the floor, blabbering nonsense and drooling. His other hand scratched uselessly at the wall. His bathrobe had hiked up, revealing his withered old legs, the color of dead snakeskin. His ankles kicked in the air as if he were pedaling a bicycle.

  “Pap-pap?” Tommy whispered. “Do you need help?”

  “Muuhwuhh,” the old man said. His whole body shivered on the cold wooden boards.

  Tommy looked up and down the hall. He didn’t know what to do. If he woke up Luke, Luke might get mad and punch him in the nuts. He ought to wake up Mr. Tanner, but that idea terrified him. He’d rather get punched in the nuts than walk into Mr. Tanner’s room.

  “Okay,” Tommy whispered. “I can help you up, Pap-pap. I’m twelve now. I’m pretty big.”

  “Gaaaah,” Pap-pap said. He turned his head and looked at Tommy with one rheumy eye. He stopped scratching the wall, and instead starting grabbing the air. “Guuuh…Guuuuh…”

  “It’s okay, Pap-pap. Sh!” Tommy walked softly to the old man, avoiding the two squeaky spots in the hallway floor.

  He took the old man’s hand.

  “Guuuuh! Guuuh!” The old man trembled harder now. His mouth opened wide. His gray tongue flapped against his black gums.

  “Shhh!” Tommy turned the old man over and slid a hand under his side. Tommy could feel his ribs through the threadbare blue robe, and the man was shaking hard. “I just got to prop you against the wall,” Tommy said. “Then we can get your walker. You hear me?”

  “Gaaaah..” The old man made a choking sound. He quaked and stared at Tommy.

  “Okay, here we go.” Tommy heaved and strained. The old man was frail, but Tommy wasn’t really very strong himself. He wrapped both his arms around the old man’s torso. Tommy tried to imagine he was a superhero, like Batman, sneaking around in the night and helping people. But mostly he felt scared. Pap-pap frightened him. Especially when you knew Pap-pap was the father of Mr. Tanner, who was truly scary.

  Tommy pulled the old man up. Fault lines of pain ripped open along Tommy’s back and across his shoulders, but he didn’t give up. He leaned the old man against the wall, but Pap-pap began sliding back toward the floor.

  “Careful!” Tommy pressed his hands against Pap-pap’s cold, bony chest. Pap-pap wasn’t wearing anything under his robe but stained yellow jockey shorts.

  “Nuuuuuh…Nuuuuuuh!” Pap-pap’s lips quivered and he swung his head from side to side.

  “You got to be quiet!” Tommy said. He looked at the overturned walker on the flo
or. If he let go of Pap-pap, the old man would fall down again. He should have stood the walker up first. Stupid.

  Tommy reached out one foot toward the walker, while pressing Pap-pap against the wall with one hand. Tommy could feel the old man’s heart whamming under the loose, dry skin of his chest.

  Tommy hooked his toes under the lowest rung of the walker. He pulled it toward him, and it clattered against the uneven floorboards.

  “Nuuuh nuuh nuuh!” Pap-pap began slapping Tommy’s head with both hands. “Nuuuh nuuuh!”

  “Quit it! I’m trying to help you!”

  “Nuuuuh!” Pap-pap stared at him with bright eyes, thick drool hanging from his chin.

  Pap-pap’s sharp fingernails dug into Tommy’s cheek, slashing towards Tommy’s left eye.

  “Hey!” Tommy turned his face away. He could feel Pap-pap’s heart jutting against his fingertips with every beat.

  “Nuuuuh…uuhhh…” Pap-pap stopped struggling. He stopped shaking, and his heart stopped thumping.

  “Pap-pap?” Tommy looked back at the old man. Pap-pap sagged against the wall now, not moving at all. His eyes stared somewhere past Tommy’s shoulder, and his mouth dropped all the way open. The old man peed, making a fresh wet stain on his underwear.

  Tommy was pretty sure he was dead.

  “Oh, God damn,” Tommy said. “Oh, no.”

  At the end of the hall, the door to the master bedroom banged open. Mr. Tanner stormed out, all six foot five of him, wearing only his sweatpants. He carried his belt with him, the one with the giant brass buckle shaped like Oklahoma. Mr. Tanner was in his early fifties, and the copious hair on his head and chest was gray, but he was still as big and strong as one of the bulls over on Mr. Whitson’s ranch.

  “What are you kids doing out here?” Mr. Tanner yelled. He snapped the belt taut, a horrifying sound. But his angry expression turned to surprise when he saw Tommy pinning the old man against the wall, with the overturned walker right next to Tommy’s feet. “Pap-pap?”

  Tommy gaped at Mr. Tanner, too terrified of the man to say anything.

  “You leave him alone!” Mr. Tanner shouted. He sprang forward and slapped Tommy’s head, hard enough to send Tommy stumbling down the hall. A painful ringing sound echoed in Tommy’s ear.

  Pap-pap slid down the wall, and Mr. Tanner caught him. He looked into the old man’s eyes, but the old man wasn’t looking back. His eyes were as cold and glassy as marbles.

  “Oh, Pap-pap,” Mr. Tanner whispered. He eased his elderly father down to a sitting position on the floor, against the wall. “Oh, Pap-pap.” Mr. Tanner looked like he would cry, and Tommy felt like crying, too.

  “What on Earth is all this commotion?” Mrs. Tanner stepped out of the bedroom, her blond hair tangled around her narrow, sour face. She wore her frilly pink night dress that barely covered her hips. She was at least twenty years younger than Mr. Tanner, and much shorter. She gasped when she saw Pap-pap and the walker on the floor.

  “He’s dead!” Mr. Tanner wailed. He stood up and pointed at Tommy, who cowered against one wall. “Because of him.”

  “I didn’t!” Tommy said.

  “Didn’t what?” Mr. Tanner advanced on him and snapped the belt again. “Didn’t what, boy?”

  “I didn’t do anything!”

  “Looks to me like you attacked him. Why’d you do that?” Mr. Tanner loomed over Tommy. “You tell me.”

  “No!” Tommy said.

  “Why’s your face all scratched up?”

  “I don’t know!” Tommy wailed.

  Mr. Tanner cracked the belt against Tommy’s stomach. Tommy slid down the wall and covered his stomach with his arms, so Mr. Tanner began whipping his shoulders instead.

  “Oh, goodness,” Mrs. Tanner whispered. That was all she did when her husband beat the foster kids. She stood there and whispered, “Oh, goodness.”

  Tommy curled up on the floor, and Mr. Tanner whipped his back and legs.

  “I told you this one had the Devil in him!” Mr. Tanner shouted. “I told you!”

  “Oh, goodness,” Mrs. Tanner whispered.

  Luke and Isaiah, the oldest and the youngest, appeared at the door to the boys’ room. Isaiah opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but Luke covered Isaiah’s mouth with his hand.

  “He done brought the Devil into this house!” Mr. Tanner yelled. He was still whipping Tommy, but he was losing steam. After a few more smacks, he turned his attention back to his dead father. He knelt by the old man’s corpse.

  “You think we ought to call the ambulance?” Mrs. Tanner asked, in her quiet voice.

  “Can’t do him no good now,” Mr. Tanner said.

  “We ought to call somebody.”

  “Then you go and call somebody!” Mr. Tanner roared. “When did I tell you to get out of the bed, anyhow?”

  “I’m sorry!” Mrs. Tanner turned and scurried away to the bedroom.

  “Get in the bed!” Mr. Tanner called after her, and then he turned to stare at Tommy. Tommy cringed against the wall, hurting all over, his arms hugging his knees.

  “This is the Devil’s work,” Mr. Tanner whispered. “And the Lord demands a special retribution for those who help the Devil do his work.”

  Tommy shivered and looked at the floor.

  “I’m gonna pray on it,” Mr. Tanner said. “You just stay right there, Thomas.”

  Mr. Tanner turned back toward his bedroom, and Luke and Isaiah ducked out of sight. Mr. Tanner slammed his bedroom door and began shouting at his wife.

  Tommy stayed where he was, like he’d been told, staring at Pap-pap’s dead body sitting against the wall. An expression of horror was carved into Pap-pap’s face, his eyes stretched wide and his toothless mouth gaping open, as if the old man had died in the grip of an unspeakable nightmare.

  Tommy couldn’t stop crying.

  Chapter Two

  The ambulance came in the night. Tommy cowered in his room while the other three boys went out to watch the circus of emergency medical workers and police. He lay in bed, shivering, as red and blue lights pulsed in the window.

  They would come for him, Tommy was sure of it. Mr. Tanner would tell the police it was all Tommy’s fault, and then Tommy would go to jail for life. The end.

  But it didn’t happen. The police and emergency people eventually went away, and Mrs. Tanner brought the other boys back to the room. Tommy lay in his bed, eyes closed and head turned aside, and pretended to sleep.

  “Does Tommy really have the Devil in him?” Isaiah asked.

  “Only God can know,” Mrs. Tanner said.

  “Mr. Tanner thinks he does,” Luke said. “He said so.”

  “Then you’ll have to talk that over with Mr. Tanner,” Mrs. Tanner said. “Now, into bed, all of you.”

  Tommy listened as the three boys got into bed.

  “Back to sleep, children.” Mrs. Tanner turned off the lights. “God watch over you.”

  “Hey, Mrs. Tanner?”

  “Yes, Isaiah?”

  “Do we gotta say our prayers again?” Isaiah asked.

  “No, just go to sleep.”

  “Mrs. Tanner?” Isaiah asked. “How come you always call your husband ‘Mr. Tanner?’ Don’t you know his first name?”

  “I’ve always called him Mister Tanner,” she said. “Ever since I was his foster daughter. There was a different Mrs. Tanner then, but she’s gone now.”

  “What happened to her?” Isaiah asked.

  “Stop trying to put off your bedtime, Isaiah.”

  “But I don’t want to sleep in the same room with Tommy. He’s scary.”

  “There are scarier things in the world than him.” Mrs. Tanner closed the door.

  The room was silent and dark for a minute.

  “You know what I think happened?” Jeb whispered. “I think Tommy gave him nightmares. Until he died.”

  “But the doctor said heart attack,” Isaiah whispered. “Right?”

  “That’s what a heart attack means, stupid,”
Luke said. “It’s when something scares you so much you die.”

  “Yeah, stupid,” Jeb echoed.

  “Ohhhhh,” Isaiah said. He was quiet for a second. “Do you think Tommy can do that to us?”

  “Maybe,” Luke said.

  “Or maybe just you, Isaiah,” Jeb said. “Cause you’re a little kid and a scaredy-cat.”

  “Why would he kill me?” Isaiah squeaked.

  “Because you won’t shut up and go to sleep,” Luke said.

  “You wouldn’t let him kill me, would you, Luke?” Isaiah whispered.

  “I would,” Luke said. “I’d watch him do it, and I’d laugh.”

  Jeb laughed.

  “Shut up, Jeb,” Luke said. “Everybody shut up.”

  Tommy couldn’t sleep, so he crept out of the house long before dawn and got started on his chores. That way, he wouldn’t have to face anybody at breakfast.

  He started by stacking up the firewood Luke and Mr. Tanner had chopped the day before. Mr. Tanner wanted it in a very precise hash pattern.

  Later, he let the horses out and mucked the stables. He couldn’t get too close to the horses themselves, because he spooked them. The horses hated him, but he had to shovel their manure anyway.

  He managed to avoid people for most of the day, but he was starving by late afternoon. Mrs. Tanner wouldn’t want him in the kitchen unless he’d washed up.

  Tommy scraped his muddy shoes outside the back door, then took them off and carried them into the house. Mr. Tanner and the other boys were still out doing chores. Tommy heard banging sounds and Mrs. Tanner’s voice, swearing up a storm.

  Upstairs, he found Mrs. Tanner in Pap-pap’s room, which smelled like stale sheets and Ben-Gay. It sort of looked like Mrs. Tanner was packing up his things, because she was taking clothes out of drawers, shaking them, and then flinging them into cardboard boxes. At the same time, it sort of looked like she was searching the room, because she was leaving the drawers hanging open, and she had pushed the mattress off the bed.

  She sensed him watching her and turned to him, a deep frown on her face.