The Trouble With Stacey - Chapter 8
I know what you're thinking. Murder isn't nice. Well neither is blackmail, and I've never liked Logan anyway. Last year I went to the Halloween Hop as Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany's and he said I looked 'fine'. Can you believe that? Fine? I looked AMAZING thankyou very much.
'Wow Logan, look at Stacey, doesn't she look so sophisticated?' said Mary Anne that night, outside the SMS hall.
'Me, sophisticated? Well maybe if I wasn't having such a bad hair day!' I smiled in mock modesty.
'You look fine,' came that familiar Kentucky drawl.
Fine? What an understatement. Fuck you Logan. I should have had him knee-capped for that. I looked at Mary Anne pacing my bedroom in her filth-encrusted outfit. Her eye twitched noticeably and for the first time I actually questioned her sanity. She certainly looked like a mad woman. But that might be used to my advantage.
'Mary Anne, I want you to think carefully before you answer this next question.' I paused for dramatic effect. 'Do you want to kill Logan?'
'No,' said Mary Anne picking up a curling iron from my bedside table 'I want to burn his genitals and then kill him.'
Close enough.
It was certainly a risk to include another person in our murder conspiracy but we needed to find some weapons. Mallory was the obvious choice as lately she had begun to talk about her new hobby of sharpening knives. From the way she talked it seemed to be verging on a sexual fetish.
After school the next day Mary Anne, still in the grip of homicidal rage judging by her pressured speech, and I knocked on the Pike's door. Mallory answered.
'Oh my god I'm so sorry for the other day!' She grabbed Mary Anne and me tightly around the shoulders in an uncomfortable hug, obviously apologetic about the drug-fuelled club meeting.
'Hey, no sweat Mal!' I was conscious of the fact that we might be seen and I wanted to go inside.
'Can we come in?'
Mallory took us to her room and I was not prepared for what I saw.
The first thing I noticed about Mal's room is how dark it was. All the walls and ceiling were painted black and heavy velvet curtains covered the solitary window. Candles were the only source of light, several of which were in the far corner of the room. As our eyes adjusted a strange smell also intensified.
The room definitely had a weird odour. It took a second to identify but seemed to be a mixture of Play-Doh, girl's deodorant and gasoline. The longer we stayed the stronger the smell became. I took a step inside and my eyes were drawn to the candles. It seemed to be part of an elaborate shrine, photos and books staring back, all featuring a man's face, eyes burnt out with what looked like cigarette holes. I instantly recognised the subject of the shrine.
Dr. Phil.
The television show host seemed to be taking an unhealthy amount of Mallory's attention. I noticed one phrase daubed in bright red paint above me, in contrast to the black walls; 'THIS IS GONNA BE A CHANGING DAY IN YOUR LIFE'. The words had obviously dripped slightly before drying and were such a hue that they held a worrying resemblance to blood.
I swore silently in my head. My mind had begun to turn over. The plan had been to ask Mallory for some weapons but it seemed that she was at least as crazy as Mary Anne. Perhaps, then, she could be used in a more direct way?
'Hey Mal, do you like Dr. Phil?'
'Oh my gosh! I'm Dr. Phil's disciple; I would do anything for the Great Man. He is beautiful, a beautiful soul!'
'Hey that's really cool, cos Mary Anne and I really like Dr. Phil too, although probably not quite as much as you.' Mallory beamed when she heard this.
'But you know Logan? Well he said Dr. Phil was an ugly, bald jerk-off who gave bad advice. He even said a PhD means you're not a real doctor.'
'HE IS A REAL DOCTOR!' Mallory screamed.
'Yeah, well we were going to go kill Logan anyway. You want to help?'
Mallory nodded. The glint in her eye was truly disturbing. This was making Mary Anne look like a pussycat.
'Cool, ' I said, 'now do you remember telling us about your knife collection?'
'Oh Stace, forget knives. This joker deserves the best.'
Mallory pulled a very long, very dusty chest from under her bed. She took a key from around her neck and unlocked the ancient padlock. Mary Anne and I peered inside.
It contained two familiar-looking weapons. I'd seen them in almost every action film although I had no idea of the name. They were huge, black and dangerous.
'AK-47s' whispered Mal.
Mary Anne and I looked at each other. We spoke in unison.
'Fuck.'
Of course having two AK-47s under your bed seemed strange but then if any 14-year-old girl were to have them it would have to be Mallory Pike. She was just bizarre. From her rumoured sexual behaviour and poor dress sense to the horror-themed artwork she produced at school, everything about her was shocking. However unlike my friends I didn't think Mallory's behaviour was designed to shock, I think that's just the way she was. I suspected it had something to do with her parents who seemed to breed with ferocious regularity.
So there I was, lying in a field at the Stones' farm close to midnight with Mallory by my side. I had once again decided to use this deserted area for our crime, Charlotte's body, according to Wes was buried not far from where we lay. Wes had tried to call me again the night before, but I had brushed him off. I hoped he would get the hint. Maybe we would resurrect the relationship after things had quietened down but it was still too unsafe. Too be honest I didn't miss him too much
We were all dressed all in black, which is usually a very flattering colour for me but for me this time it was just sweat pants and a U4Me T-Shirt. The fashion another reason I hoped no one would see us, besides the equally worrying fact that we were about to kill Logan Bruno.
Mary Anne had spun a very convincing tale of potential sex to lure Logan here, although he was about ten minutes late. Mary Anne, it was decided, would be the bait, armed with a huge knife 50 yards away, we lay in wait, our enormous semi-automatic weapons at the ready. I checked my watch; 15 minutes late.
C'mon Logan. I was about to say something to Mal when a familiar car drove up the driveway. This was it. I smiled at Mal who whispered in barely audible tone.
'Not a real doctor, huh? Let's fuck this guy up.'
...TO BE CONTINUED