Chainsaw Honeymoon by Steven Ramirez

Author:Steven Ramirez [Ramirez, Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780999079126
Publisher: Glass Highway

14

“You can’t solve it. It cannot be solved. You’re gonna die. Like Lionel. Like Miss Tanner.”

The Legend of Hell House

I could feel a lecture coming as Mom pulled her Lexus ES up in front of Dad’s apartment building. She turned off the engine and looked at me with a serious expression.

“Ruby, you have to promise me you won’t wander off like that again.”

Oh no, not the little finger! I rolled my eyes, but Mom persisted. Slowly, I extended my little finger, too, and pinky-promised her. I prayed no one was watching us.

“I promise,” I said and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Mom? Dad and I are going up to Solvang for a few days. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Why didn’t he tell me himself?”

“I’m sure he’s planning to.”

“How are things with him?”

“Okay…I guess.”

“Is he seeing anyone?”

“Mom!”

“He wasn’t too happy the last time we were together.”

“You could cheer him up now,” I said.

“What? No, I don’t think so.”

“Come on, just for a minute.”

I practically catapulted out of the car, ran around to the other side, and dragged her out.

“Ruby, this isn’t a good idea.”

“It’s a fantastic idea!” I said.

I yanked the keys from the ignition and ran toward the front entrance, dangling them in the air. Then, I tried out my evil laugh. Never mind, that needed some work.

“You’re not leaving here until you come in!” I said.

A couple of minutes later, Mom was sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen as Dad pretended to putter. She and I both knew he was nervous because he never puttered. Sure, sometimes he would procrastinate—and once he’d even prevaricated—but the man never puttered.

Since she arrived, Ed had stayed close to Mom. I kissed each of my parents dramatically and disappeared, intending to leave my bedroom door open so I wouldn’t miss anything.

“Going to my room! Come on, Ed.” The dog ignored me.

“I already yelled at her for running away,” Mom said.

Judging by her tone, I didn’t think she was all that angry. Maybe she had wanted to be here and needed an excuse? After what seemed like minutes, Dad finally spoke up.

“Want some coffee?”

Silence. I couldn’t understand why no one was saying anything. When the coffee was ready, they moved to the living room. Dad put on a John Coltrane ballad to set the mood. I’m pretty sure it was “You Don’t Know What Love Is.” He was old school and only owned vinyl. For years, he had tried to convert me. As a result, I had practically memorized his entire jazz collection.

“The music’s great,” Mom said. “I really miss it.”

“You don’t listen to jazz anymore?”

“No.” She forced a laugh. “Someone heard I liked it and gave me a smooth jazz CD for Christmas.”

“Ouch.”

“Don’t worry, I regifted it.”

“Who else do you hate that much, besides me?”

She laughed, this time for realz. “I don’t hate you, Alan. And, if you must know, I donated it to the library.”

Though it sounded like things were on track, I wanted to see for myself. So I sneaked into the hallway and stayed glued to the wall, watching my parents not being romantic.

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