Summer of Corruption

Summer of Corruption

September 1986

16 years old

One night, my neighbours asked if I would watch their kids while they went out to celebrate their thirteenth wedding anniversary. I’d always considered our neighbours to be snobs and I wanted as little to do with them as possible. In the past, when they would call me for a last-minute babysitter, I would usually decline the offer. I hated their kids; they were conceited little brats who never listened to a word of discipline directed toward them. On many occasions, I was tempted to throw their delicate bodies through a wall and fatally wound them. I don’t know why I said I’d pay them that particular favour, maybe it was because I knew a wedding anniversary was a special occasion for couples. Maybe it was because I subconsciously knew something more exciting would result from it. Whatever it was, I’m glad I did it.

*****

The Anhursts were an old family in Salem. In fact, the family dated back to the Massachusetts Bay Colony. As a result of notoriety, the present Anhursts are the typical Old Money family. They have no reason to work, other than to have something to keep them occupied, and to earn yet more money, which in my opinion, they don’t need any more of.

Joe’s family was widely known for their involvement in witchcraft. Joshuah Anhurst I had been accused of practicing witchcraft in 1692. After his trial, Joshuah was found guilt and burned at the stake. Just before his death, he made his beloved wife, Elizabeth, promise to keep the family tradition and to teach their children, Joshuah II and Sarah, everything they should know about it.

Elizabeth was a good mother. She sent her children to school and went with them to the fire and brimstone church gatherings every Sunday, as was expected of her. But other than that, the young widow stayed indoors during the day. She avoided leaving her house as much as possible and sent Josh or Sarah out to run her errands. Although Elizabeth Anhurst was agoraphobic by day, she lived a very active nightlife, contrary to the belief of local townspeople.

Every Wednesday night, Elizabeth would wake up her children and guide them to an abandoned farm house used by local witches for their weekly meetings and rituals. There, she would teach them about their family and the Tradition.

“The Anhursts,” she told them, “are a special family among many, in that we do not worship the same god that most do. There are many different religions in the world, and only a few of those where we live. Ours is one that you hear about on the street every day and at church every week. Ours is a ‘forbidden’ religion and the rites and rituals we perform, and our resulting abilities, are greatly feared by others, who refuse to try to understand what we believe.

“Because of this, our religion is superior to all the others labelled ‘holy.’ It is said that ours is the ‘unholy.’ We worship what we call the Devil, or Satan, where everyone else grovels at the feet of God.

“Other religions don’t worship God, either, so I do not want you to think that ours is any different from those.”

Elizabeth also told them that their father was her brother, and when Sarah came of age, she too would marry her brother. When they had children, they would always have two, first a boy, then a girl, two years apart. When that girl came of age, she would marry her brother, and so on.

This, of course, was a rumour, and it lost most of its potency as time went on. It also explained the lack of genetic mutancy. Because they were witches, they could concoct some kind of vile potion in order to avoid such unpleasantries.

Four hundred years came and went, and the Anhurst family was finally cleared of its past, although it was destined to be a favourite story told among adults, as well as schoolchildren.

*****

Besides thinking that Joe and Lizzi Anhurst were snobs, I was also most curious about them. I thought Joe and Lizzi to be utterly pattern-prone. For instance, they always had a party four times a year, on February 1, April 30, July 31, and October 31, and my curiosity drove me to continuously question them about it. They either pretended not to hear me or changed the subject so quickly, I hardly had time to realise what happened.

Since I never received enough information from Joe and Lizzi whenever I asked them why they regularly threw parties on those particular dates, I decided to perform a solo investigation. Through diligent research, I found nothing. Then one day, while reading a book on witchcraft for my own pleasure, I happened upon some very interesting information.

According to the book, it seems that the dates on which Joe and Lizzi held their parties coincided with Candlemas, May Eve, Lamas Eve, and All Hallows Eve. Incidentally, these are the dates of the witches’ sabbats.

On these nights, the common ritual would be to smear an ointment made from the flesh and blood of babies that the witches had most likely stolen from local hospitals and later murdered if they weren’t already dead. After this grotesque task was performed, they would pay homage to the Devil by singing praises to him backwards, performing obscenities, and planning future evil. A feast would follow soon after, consisting of freshly killed children.

I found this information rather nauseating, and doubly hard to believe that the Anhursts would actually do something to horrible. But the, being as weird as they were, they were capable of doing almost anything conceivable to the imagination, which was a scary thought in itself.

*****

Joe was short and lean with a muscular build. He had thick, black hair worn in the current fashion: long in back and short, almost spiked in front, and it was straight as a poker. His eyes were also black. They glittered ominously with the passion of his emotions. H was outgoing. He loved to work, whether it be on the house or at the office; he was always busy doing something physical. He frequently hid himself in the house for weeks at a time, and everyone in the neighbourhood would hear strange noises coming from it, but was unable to figure out what he was working on. Even his wife would claim not to know.

Lizzi, his wife, was short and thin, and so beautiful that you couldn’t stop looking at her. She had long, blonde hair that felt as soft and silky as it looked. Her eyes could hold yours with a glance that could make you completely forget what you were doing. They could contain such intense emotion that you had no choice but to look away in order to save yourself from going mad. She had the power to make you do anything she wanted you to do with a single look.

I always thought of Lizzi as something of a hausfrau during the daytime. In fact, I have never seen her before 6:00 pm. She cooked a lot, I know. I could smell strange odours emanating from the house every time I walked by. They were oftentimes quite foul, yet they were utterly entrancing. It’s difficult to explain the curious smells that drifted from that house as other than bewitching.

One time, while trying to be funny, I commented to my wife, Jenny, that maybe Lizzi’s daytime hermacy was a hand-me-down of her grandmother’s old and mysterious habit carried over thirteen generations. My wife, though, never thought this to be very humorous.

Jenny was a devout Catholic and forever paranoid of the spells the Anhursts might curse us with if they ever heard me talking that way about them. She believed with amazing faith that Joe and Lizzi were brother and sister, and therefore insisted that they were actually witches. Jenny also had very good eyes and could clearly see that Lizzi was pleasantly over-blessed and had a gorgeous body to boot. That’s why she was so upset when I told her that I was going over there to watch their kids for the night. She nearly raised hell, you should pardon the pun.

“You’re going to what?” she screamed, furiously.

“I’m going over to the Anhursts. They need a babysitter and asked me if I would oblige them. I said I would.”

“But you know I don’t like them, especially that witch. Why did you agree to help them?”

“Jenny, dearest love, I’m shocked. Haven’t you heard the saying that just came out? You know the one, ‘Do unto others…’”

“Don’t bullshit me, John. I know why you want to go over there. Lizzi’s there all alone and she wants you to read a few bedtime stories to her, maybe rub her back a little, and finally if she’s been a good little girl, you’ll give her a goodnight kiss and God know what’ll happen after that. I’m warning you, John, if you go over there, I won’t be here to give you your goodnight kiss when you get home!”

“Jenny, I don’t need this from you right now. I’m going over there, so that Joe and Lizzi can celebrate their wedding anniversary. When I get home, I hope you’ll have thought this out a little bit and realize how silly you’re being. And when you do, maybe I’ll put you to bed. I love you, honey. You know that. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Remember what I just said, and I’ll see you when I get home.”

And with that, I left.

*****

When I arrived at the Anhursts, I knocked at the door and waited to be let in. I took a deep breath and hoped that Lizzi would answer. Realising what I was thinking, I shook myself out of my reverie, and rationalized that I didn’t want to face Joe’s disconcerting stare. I then looked around at their property and silently commended Joe on his meticulous gardening, probably to make up for criticizing Joe’s looks. Hell, I didn’t want to be turned into a toad or something. You know, just in case.

Then, as if she’d sensed my longing, Lizzi opened the door. She gave me the once-over with a seductive gleam in her eye, and smiled.

“I’m glad to see that you’ve come. I was hoping you’d be here tonight, John.” Her voice was low, and I had to lean toward her to hear it. Her breath was warm and soothing against my ear.

I started getting aroused and moved closer to her in response to it. I managed to stammer out, “Always glad to help out a friend, Liz.”

Don’t ask me what she was wearing, because I couldn’t tell you, I don’t even know myself. My thought at that time were not on her clothes, they were occupied with what was underneath.

Noticing my obvious discomfort, she smiled knowingly and appreciatively. This made me want her so much I could taste it. She gave me a long, lingering look, and before I could stop myself, I drew her body against mine and bent to kiss her.

At that moment, Joe came down the stairs and Lizzi and I ended up executing a friendly hug, instead. Joe beamed with pleasure that they’d finally won me over as a friend of the family. “Glad to see that you could make it tonight, John,” he said. “This night means a lot to Lizzi and me, and to start the night off on a pleasant note, I hope this means that we are finally friends.”

“We are, Joe. We are.” I looked at each of them in turn, and my ‘discomfort’ subsided.

Before they left, Lizzi informed me that there was a list of the things I should know on the kitchen table. I walked over to it and picked up the list.

ü    Dinner at 6:30

ü    No dessert, but a snack is permitted at 8:30, if they so desire

ü    Bed at 9:30

ü    If the kids disobey your orders, smack ‘em once or twice and throw ‘em in their room. They need the discipline, so don’t hesitate to be physical

ü    Make sure they brush their teeth before going to bed

That word, desire, brought my mind back to Lizzi and the kiss we almost shared not five minutes before. I wanted her, and I was going to have her, whatever the cost.

*****

At promptly 6:30, Josh and Sarah came in begging for their dinner. Both kids looked amazingly like their parents. They were exact replicas with the exception that these two were much shorter, much more immature, and Sarah didn’t turn me on in the least, but she was most surely going to be on hell of a looker, come mid-adolescence. They were both monsters most of the time and difficult to handle and control, but on rare occasions, they were sweet, lovable children.

I fed them dinner and tried to get them to go back outside, but they wanted to watch TV instead. I consented and was suddenly filled with an uncontrollable urge to snoop around the house. I decided to start with the bedrooms upstairs.

I climbed up the stairs, turned the corner, and walked to the first door I saw. It was made of mahogany, masterfully carved, and I suspected that it was either hand-carved by Joe or one of his ancestors. I decided to save this room for last, assuming that it was the master bedroom, and resolving that I’d see I in good time.

I chose the room at the end of the hall, instead. When I came to it, I cautiously opened the door and peered inside.

The first thing I felt was a cold breeze, which was strange because it was the middle of summer and Salem had been suffering one of the worst heat waves in its history. No one’s air conditioner was so strong as to create a breeze like that, and since the vents were located on the floor, there was no way the air currents could have been so high. I shuddered a little and walked into the room.

It looked like a room that belonged to a normal kid, except that it was twice the size of a normal bedroom and to make up for it there were two beds on either side. On the right side, against the wall was a bed that clearly belonged to a girl. It had a frilly yellow bedspread, throw pillows, dolls, and stuffed animals neatly arranged on top. The neighbouring wall was covered with posters of ballet cancers, actors, and singers. The window had curtains that matched the bed spread, and looked out onto the front yard.

Against the left wall was a bed that obviously belonged to a boy. Atop the bed was a blue, fluffy quilt covered with the latest G-Bots and Transformers action figures. His wall had posters of Star Wars and Star Trek characters. The window, which looked out onto the back yard, didn’t have any curtains, but blue Levolores to match the quilt.

Facing me was another window, spanning nearly the entire length of the wall between the two beds, and looked out onto the side yard. The walls and carpeting were a universal white, so as not to clash with the kids’ differences in taste, I imagined. The odd thing about it was that the room was absolutely spotless. There was not a stain on the wall or on the rug, and nothing was out of place, except me. “I should be downstairs watching the kids,” I thought.

Just then, I heard a noise behind me. Startled, I turned to see what it was.

Josh and his little sister stood glaring at me with all of the intimidation a ten- and eight-year-old could muster.

“What are you doing in our room,” Josh demanded.

“I heard a noise and I came up to see what it was.”

“Well, what was it?” he said in a nasty tone.

“If I knew what it was, I wouldn’t be up here trying to find out, would I?” I retorted.

“I’m tellin’ Mom when she gets home that you’re lookin’ for stuff to steal.”

“It’s my room, too, Josh!” piped in little Sarah. I had to admit, she was kinda cute.

A long line of obscenities raced through my head. But I said, “Tell your mom whatever you want.”

Then, to my surprise, Josh said in a low voice, “Just don’t ever let me catch you in here again, jerk.”

I stood there and watched them glare back at me, trying to decide what to do. Instead of slapping Josh upside the head, I calmly walked out of the room and down the hall. When I reached the stairs, I heard the door slam exceptionally hard for a scrawny ten-year-old. I looked behind me. No one was there. I shuddered and started down the stairs.

*****

A week later, I was astonished to receive another invitation to sit the Anhurst Brats again. I eagerly accepted.

When I arrived at their house, Lizzi was waiting for me, wearing a lacy, see-through black teddy. When she let me in, I asked if Josh or Sarah had said anything about me since I was there last week.

“The kids are always telling lies,” she said. “Just ignore them.” She moved closer to me and in a low voice said, “Joe left to get some milk for the kids’ dinner. Josh and Sarah are out playing at a friend’s. We’ve got the house to ourselves for at least an hour.”

I smiled and pushed the memory of the argument between me and Jenny out of my mind. Then I carried Liz to her room. I opened the door, walked in, and lay Liz gently on the bed.

“God, I want you, Liz,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Then take me, John. I’m all yours.”

And I did.

*****

During that brief hour of sensual pleasure, Liz revealed to me all the secrets of her family history, though not through words, but through mental pictures. I wasn’t shocked in the least, and I was surprised to find that it seemed very attractive and I wanted to become a part of it, as I was then a part of Liz.

Just as we finished getting dressed, Joe came home and they left to have dinner with his boss.

Although I didn’t need to, I felt compelled to continue my search upstairs. I had seen two of the rooms already, and had one more to go. Why stop there? On my way up, I noticed that one of the steps creaked a little and recalled the two occasions I’d heart it: Just before Josh caught me in the room he shared with his sister, and then when I had carried Lizzi to her bedroom. I smiled a little, thinking I’d better get used to that creak because I was going to hear a lot more of it in the future. Then I heard myself saying, “You know I’d never do anything to hurt you, Jenny.” I pushed the memory out of my mind and continued my trek to the last room.

When I got there, I opened the door and stepped in. I felt another cold breeze rush past my taut body and walked to the middle of the room and turned around in a slow circle. There was a sudden gust of wind that seemed to come from all around me and chilled me to the bone. Accompanying that wind was an unpleasant odour, not unlike those I’d smelled when passing outside this house on previous occasions. Aside from all of this, the most disturbing thing was that the room was empty and painted entirely black; even the windows were painted over.

It didn’t sink in until that moment what this room was used for, and I made it a point to get my skinny little ass out of there as soon as possible. I decided that it would be in the best interest of my mental well-being to go downstairs and watch TV for awhile, and forget that I’d ever been upstairs at all.

A few minutes later, Josh and Sarah came in from playing. They bounded down the stairs and explained a cherry welcome. I sounded a hello just as emphatic. “What happened since last week?” I wondered silently. Lizzi must have had a talk with them. Good thing, too, because I was in no mood to deal with difficult kids that night.

I intended to stay on their good side, so I took them to Pizza Hut for dinner. We had a chance to talk and get to know each other better. When we left, they asked if we could go somewhere the next time I babysat. “Maybe,” I said. I didn’t want to make any promises I’d regret later. Then I took them to the park, and for their 8:30 snack, I bought them each a Dove ice cream bar.

I am safe and proud to say that I was to remain Josh’s and Sarah’s favourite babysitter, and the only one they treated with respect. I was called upon to babysit several times within the next year, until Jenny and I moved the following summer. During that time, Liz and I continued our little affair, as it were, and I did finally become a part of their strange wonderful family.

*****

It’s been three years since Jenny and I moved to Chicago, and I’ve received several letters from Joe, Lizzi and the kids. We’ve obviously remained friends ever since that summer and we all miss each other. Jenny has some objection to my regular correspondence with them, but she’s getting used to it. She’s even started to get used to the idea that they send me an invitation four times each years to attend some silly party or other, and that I insist on going to every single one.

Yes, we’re very close friends, now. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I can get Jenny to come along with me sometime and introduce her to Joe. I think she’d like that very, very much. In fact, I think we’d all four get along wonderfully.