Spoilers for Audrey Rose, if that bothers anyone. Besides the novel (and its sequel), it's also a movie starring Anthony Hopkins from 1977.
November 10
I stay up all night reading Audrey Rose. This way I avoid strange dreams and waking up on the floor.
The story centers around the family of a ten year old daughter, Ivy Templeton. Ivy is having nightmares. She has no memory of the nightmares, but through her screams, she seems like she is burning to death. And Ivy's mother notices a strange man is following them around. The man also sends Ivy gifts and telephones one day when Ivy is staying home sick from school. After a few nervous run-ins, the man, Elliot Hoover, introduces himself and reveals that ten years ago, his wife and daughter, Audrey Rose, perished in a car accident. The car accident happened on the same day that Ivy was born. Mr. Hoover believes that Ivy is the reincarnation of Audrey Rose.
Though Ivy's father believes Mr. Hoover is a crackpot and warns him to leave his family alone, Ivy's mother, Janice begins to see that Mr. Hoover's theory might not be so nutty, especially one night, when Ivy responds to Mr. Hoover's voice during one of her nightmares.
The night terrors continue. During one of the worst ones, Ivy places her hands on the window and they inexplicably get burned. In desperation, Mrs. Templeton calls Mr. Hoover and he is able to calm her down. Like the other time, Mr. Hoover addresses Ivy as Audrey Rose and, again, she listens to him.
At first I am just reading the book, trying to figure out what is happening. But when the subject of reincarnation opens up, a few things strike me as eerie parallel to my own life. Audrey Rose died the same day Ivy was born. Judith Myers died the same day I was born. Ivy was having nightmares related to her supposed past death. I was having nightmares about Judith's life, and presumably, of her death. Ivy was receiving strange gifts, though it is disclosed soon enough who is sending the gifts. I was receiving gifts with Judith's name and I had found a dead rat.
Was Mrs. Wallace trying to tell me that I'm the reincarnation of Judith Myers?
A few minutes later, the ridiculous nature of this theory surfaces. First of all, Mrs. Wallace doesn't know about the nightmares or the gifts. Secondly, while Ivy didn't know about Audrey Rose, I am aware of Judith Myers and her murder. My nightmares more likely have stemmed Dr. Loomis's book and news of Michael Myers' reappearance. The gifts, particularly the JUDITH ring, are harder to explain away. I suppose if Michael was still hiding in the neighborhood, he could have scripted Judith's name on my birthday cake, but engraving a ring takes a little more specialized training.
Then there's the essential question of why? Why would Michael Myers sneak into my house to write on my cake and leave a dead rat in my bathroom sink, and even move my clock radio back to nightstand, but not kill me? He certainly had not waited around to kill his other victims when he had access to them.
There is no message. It wouldn't be possible. It wouldn't be plausible.
But then, why did Mrs. Wallace give me this book?
I put the book away when I first discover the correlation between Ivy and me, but, at school, I cannot concentrate. I want to go home and finish reading it.
I could ask Mrs. Wallace why she chose this book. There's a good chance that she had an innocuous reason. But then I would have to give my crazy theory more attention than it deserves. For heaven's sakes, if I was going to be an FBI profiler, I could not look to reincarnation to explain away a strange mystery.
II
At lunch, I get a large cup of Mountain Dew. I turn around with my tray, and Ben Tramer is right behind me.
He glances at my oversize cup.
"Overnighter," I quip.
"Me too," he says congenially. "Calculus test this morning."
"How'd it go?"
"I'm sure I passed."
He picks up a carton of milk. "Do you mind if I sit with you? I wanted to ask something about Dr. Loomis's book."
"Okay." A weird disappointment sets in me. Ben's interest in the book hints that he's still missing Laurie. Which reminds me why I shouldn't be fantasizing about Ben.
I wave briefly to Alice and Joanne. They get the message immediately. Then I sit across from Ben at one of the end tables.
"So you've been reading it?"
"Pieces of it," Ben admits. "I wouldn't call Dr. Loomis a breezy author."
"True." It took me about a month to get through the entire book with its layered sentences and hordes of footnotes.
"He didn't really explore his family's background," Ben says. "There are big gaps in his information. For one thing, he never identifies Michael's father."
"Tony Hammond," I say automatically. The identity of Michael Myers' father is not really a secret.
"That's half of Michael's DNA Dr. Loomis didn't explore. And I asked around about Tony Hammond. Nobody knows who he is, beyond his name and his connection to Mrs. Myers. Supposedly he's from Missouri, but no one knows much about where he came from."
"That is odd," I have to agree. Everyone in town knows about Wendell Myers, Judith's father, who died when his car plowed into an icy river on one of his trucking routes. And of course everyone knows about Angel Myers' slimeball father Ronnie White. Tony Hammond, however, was an unknown entity. He was not as overtly meek and lazy as Judith's father, or as drunk and lecherous as Ronnie White. All people here know for certain is that Hammond skipped out before Michael was even a year old.
"There wasn't much on Mrs. Myers family background either," I remember.
"No. The book mentions that Debbie Myers had not spoken with her parents since Judith was born." Ben shrugs. "Maybe he wasn't interested in following up. He was fixated on the idea that Michael Myers was evil."
"He was just a kid," I say, as a vague melancholic feeling sweeps over me.
"Yeah, I can see why people had issue with his theories. They don't like kids being branded as evil. And I suppose ninety-nine percent of the time, they're right. Kids aren't just born evil. Something makes them that way. But, then, there are probably some, um, rare exceptions that just can't be reached."
III
When I go to Lindsey's school, all the insane thoughts that occurred to me this morning come flooding back. Once again, I wrestle with the idea of asking Mrs. Wallace about selecting Audrey Rose. Once again, I decide against it.
Lindsey pops out of the main door. She strides purposefully past the other kids, never once looking their way. She maneuvers around them, like a phantom who does not expect to be seen.
She gives me a short wave before she joins me at the fence.
"How was your day?" I ask.
"I have this stupid assignment where I have to color the seven continents different colors and label them," Lindsey replies, sounding, as usual, like she's evading the real answer.
We return to the Wallace's. Lindsey unlocks the door and tromps in. I follow. The emptiness of the house catches me every time. It's puzzling: my own house has been just as empty many times when I come home after school, but I never feel the same throat-constricting apprehension as I do entering this house.
Lindsey drops her backpack at the kitchen table and glances my way for the first time today.
"You got your ring," she comments.
I hold out my hand, so she can admire the stone. She studies it. "It's pretty," she says, with awe.
"Thanks."
Lindsey opens her backpack and pulls out her folder and a box of colored pencils. She plans to get the detested assignment out of the way.
"Want me to get us something to eat?" I ask.
"No." Absently she uncovers her worksheet. She selects a red pencil and starts shading in a rough outline of North America.
I pull out my chemistry books. I have to finish up a lab report and though all it involves is copying data from my notes to a final draft, I cannot focus on it. By the time Lindsey has finished out her worksheet, I have only written four words.
"Mom says your birthday is on Halloween," Lindsey breaks in.
My usual practice is to correct my birth date to November 1st. I have done this so often, coached by my parents, that I do it automatically. This time, I hesitate.
"That's right," I say. "It is."
"The birthstone for October is the opal," Lindsey states. "Why is the stone on your ring a topaz?"
Usually I recite the convoluted story about how I was born exactly at midnight on October 31st and that somehow means my birth date was recorded as November 1st, though it wouldn't have been November 1st for another minute, but close enough. Everyone in Haddonfield knows that story. They listen to my lengthy explanation with a pitiable understanding of the real reason behind the change.
"I like the stone," I say, instead.
"I guess it doesn't have to be your birthstone," Lindsey says, in what I learned is her customary manner of reassurance.
"Right."
Lindsey opens her math workbook. She shows more enthusiasm in tackling the multiplication problems. I jot down three more words. Then Lindsey pushes away her workbook, her homework completed.
"I'm going to play cards," she says.
"Do you want me to play?"
"Sure, unless you want to finish your homework," she says doubtfully.
"It can wait." My homework has not proved to be sufficient distraction from Audrey Rose. I expect a card game will work better.
When Mrs. Wallace comes home at nine fifteen, I thank her again for the birthday gift, but - with great restraint - avoid the silly and obnoxious question that has preyed on my mind all day.
IIII
November 11 Morning
Ivy dies.
Why the hell was I so anxious to finish this book?