The Amityville Horror Part II by John G. Jones

Author:John G. Jones [Jones, John G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780446300292
Amazon: 0446300292
Publisher: Warner Books
Published: 1983-06-01T12:00:00+00:00

***

By midmorning of the following day, the storm had passed them by. George could see the results of the wind and rain all around him: fallen trees, downed power lines, and mud on every visible surface. It would take weeks for San Diego to clean itself up. But now it was time to unload the truck.

He levered a heavy cedar chest onto his back and hurried toward the house, cursing himself for not moving a chunk of broken palm tree out of the walk when he'd had the chance. It would have made his trip three steps shorter.

He thumped up the porch and through the door, groaning a little more than necessary under the chest's substantial weight. He even tried to wipe his boots before he tracked on the carpet, but there wasn't much point to that. He'd made a mess of it already.

Kathy was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.

"Where would you like it, ma'am?" he said, lowering the chest to the carpet. The thing was heavy.

Kathy was frowning. George didn't like that look.

"What is it, babe?"

She started to say something, but she stopped. Then she tried again. "George, I know your great-grandfather made that chest, that the wood is from one of the first ships from England, and all that. And I know the psychics said that cedarwood was... well, safe. But..." She paused and glanced nervously at the box. "But it was in the house with us for a while—just for those few days before you took it to the office, remember?—and I feel strange about having it here." She looked down at her apron, embarrassed. "I know that sounds crazy, but—"

George smiled and turned away. "It's no problem, babe," he said, and started to pick up the chest. "I'll just put it in the garage."

"Are you sure it's okay?"

He turned back to her, still smiling. "It's fine. Really."

"George, I want to tell you something. I know I was the one who made all the trouble about coming out here. But now that we've been here a while, I have to say... things feel better already." She looked into his eyes, and inexplicably, she felt like crying—a happy sort of crying. "I—it really feels like a fresh start, George. Really it does."

He said, "For me, too, babe," and kissed her. And they stood there among the unpacked cartons and mismatched furniture of their living room, close in each other's arms, for a very long time.

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