Ch. 62
Walter had to admit that he preferred staying in bed all evening over going out to search for Agent Orange II, and that was exactly what they had done. Walter couldn't help but feeling guilty, however, and he found himself staring up at the ceiling that night, unable to sleep. He wondered where in the city Agent Orange II was now; the crazy freak. The new killer made Walter almost miss the original Agent Orange. Almost.
Laurie sighed a little and stirred next to him.
"Are you still awake?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Agent Orange II?"
"Yes."
Laurie sighed.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have insisted. I mean, maybe--"
"No," Walter put his hand over her mouth. "Don't be silly. I needed to stay in."
Laurie nodded, and he took his hand away.
"I'm just worried you'll work yourself to death," she told him.
"I know," Walter said. "But we'll find him soon and then I can focus on finding a better job, and it won't be as bad."
Laurie nodded again and rubbed his chest. Walter shivered and put his hand on hers.
"It seems ridiculous that I stay here so much," he told her. "I mean, I hardly go to my apartment now but I'm still paying rent."
"Maybe you should move here," Laurie said, eagerly.
"Well, I don't know about that," Walter laughed a little. "Your father will return at some point, and that's a bit of an awkward arrangement."
"I suppose so."
"I was thinking more along the lines of you moving in with me," Walter said, tensing for a moment to wait for her response.
"Really?"
"What you said about it being more convenient makes sense, considering now I have to stop by my apartment in the morning, but if you were there..."
"Yes."
Walter hesitated.
"So that means..." he looked at her.
"Yes, I would love to move in with you."
"Oh, good," he said, relieved.
"I'll start packing my things and we can gradually take them to your apartment."
Walter nodded and felt good about himself.
"Walter?" Laurie rolled over to look him in the eye.
"Hm?"
"What would you do if I was pregnant?"
Walter froze.
"Does that mean you are?" he asked her. "Or are you saying hypothetically?"
"I've been worrying about it all week," she told him. "I don't know yet, but so far it's just hypothetical I suppose."
"Oh."
Laurie was looking at him expectantly.
"Uh," Walter felt a little embarrassed. "I would actually like it if you were, actually."
"Really?" Laurie looked surprised.
Walter nodded and gave her a shy smile.
"It's not exactly convenient right now," Walter admitted. "I mean, considering the circumstances, and we're not even married."
"Yes."
"But I wouldn't mind," he said.
"I wouldn't either," Laurie told him, happily.
Nevertheless, Walter couldn't help but worry a little. If she was pregnant, he would have to move at a much quicker pace, and with all the things happening at once it wasn't necessarily ideal. At the same time, it was something that he strongly desired, and it wasn't even a feeling he could explain. He just knew that he wanted it, even though his logical mind told him it was an irrational desire. Walter closed his eyes for a moment to rest them, trying to think of names, and whether or not he wanted a boy or a girl. He would prefer a boy -- he wouldn't know what to do with a girl (but what if Laurie wanted one?) -- and he was certain he would name him Charles, after his father.
The next thing Walter knew, he was sitting at a picnic table on a bright summer day. It was warm -- too warm, even -- and the sky was a brilliant blue. It took Walter only a few seconds to realize it was a dream. Even though his surroundings were perfect, there was something about the air that was unsettling, and after a moment it became too warm.
Walter took a slow survey of the area and noted the sickly green of the grassy hills that stretched on beyond his field of vision. Far ahead in the distance he could see a dark mass approaching and he looked away, not really wanting to know what it was. It wasn't until he had turned that he realized that he was sitting with Mr. Petersen's relatives. Among the five known relatives were all their own friends and loved ones, foreigners that sat at a table that continued forever. Walter was pleased to spot Mr. Petersen himself nearby.
Walter tried to get Mr. Petersen's attention, but he found himself unable to raise his voice, which only came out a whisper. Sam Petersen, his employer's son, sat across from Walter, and he waved a small envelope at him, his card in the other hand. He was nodding to Walter in a mechanical fashion. It wasn't until Laurie reached out and took the envelope out of his hand that Walter noticed she had been sitting next to him.
"Maybe you should give him a call, Walter," she told him. Walter found himself unable to do much besides stare. She looked very pretty in a bright yellow sundress, and the stifling heat was making him sluggish. Laurie opened the envelope and gave Walter the contents, some papers, it seemed. Walter tried to read them but the words on the pages kept swimming away from him even as he focused on them.
Laurie nudged Walter and passed him a bowl full of food he didn't recognize. He served himself and passed the bowl to his neighbor, a man whose face he could not see. Walter tried to eat, but the food was rubbery and tasteless, like over boiled eggs and Walter spat it out. He turned to Laurie and shook his head, pushing their plates away. She nodded and stroked his hair.
"This is a dream," Walter told her. "A bad dream. We should leave."
"I'm not sure if we can," Laurie said. "That man wants to talk to you."
Walter looked up at where Sam Petersen had been sitting, assuming Laurie meant him, but everyone had disappeared apart from Walter, Laurie, and the man who was on his other side. Walter didn't want to see who was sitting next to him, but he felt compelled to do it, lest he had to sit in limbo for eternity. The man was still looking away, so Walter put a tentative hand on his shoulder.
The man turned, and of course it was Agent Orange, but his facial features were distorted as if he was made of warped plastic that had melted in the sun.
"He wants you to find him," said Agent Orange. No, this was the new killer, Walter was sure of it. Agent Orange himself was dead.
"Who are you?" Walter asked him, choking on his words until he was shocked to find that Agent Orange II had his hands about his throat. Walter struggled against it, but his grip was too strong. When Walter dug his fingers into Agent Orange II's wrists, the flesh gave way as if it were from a badly rotted corpse. The rest of his skin began to drop off the remaining parts of his body. A gruesome stench rose up to mix with the stifling hot air, and Walter gagged.
Laurie ran around Walter and started tugging at Agent Orange II's arm. It fell apart like brittle candy, bony hand loosening from Walter as its attached arm fell back to the ground to shatter into a hundred pieces. Walter scrambled to his feet and darted away from the remaining hand that groped blindly at his throat. Grotesquely contorted face made even more so by the lack of skin, Agent Orange II reached out to him with eyes that ran red with gore.
Walter put his arms protectively around Laurie and regarded the killer as he -- it -- tried to stand up from his seat, but he seemed rooted there. Walter saw movement in his peripheral vision and he turned to realize that the dark approaching mass had in fact been a wave of blood that now engulfed the table. Agent Orange opened his twisted mouth and held out his arm as if for forgiveness, but Walter just held on tightly to Laurie and watched until there was nothing left before him but the color red.
Walter blinked in the darkness and was grateful to be awake. He found that he had been clutching at Laurie in a similar manner to that of his dream, though she was still asleep. In his half-awake state, Walter felt it necessary to stir her, stroking her face until her eyes came open.
"Walter," said Laurie, sitting up to look at him. "What happened?"
"I finally know, Laurie," Walter told her.
"Know what, Walter?" Laurie asked him, hands going to his chest and looking bewildered.
"I should have known from the start," Walter muttered, then he sank back onto his pillow, feeling impossibly tired.
When Walter came to again, it was morning. He put his arm out to find an empty space where Laurie should have been. He frowned. Feeling feverish, Walter climbed out of bed and stared out the window in confusion before he wandered into the living room, relieved to find Laurie there, reading a book. She looked up when he entered, and frowned.
"Walter," she said, getting up quickly. "Go back to bed."
"But it's morning," he told her, with astonishment. "I need to go to work."
"Oh no you don't," Laurie shook her head. "Don't you remember? You woke up earlier with a fever. I told you I was going to call the shop and let them know you weren't coming in, and that's exactly what I did."
"I don't think I--"
"No, Walter. You're sick." Laurie took him firmly by the arm and led him back to bed and pushed him down until he obeyed her. "You need to rest."
"What time is it?" Walter asked her. He noticed that the room was spinning and his throat was dry.
"It's noon, Walter," Laurie said as she stroked his hair. "Don't worry. Just rest, all right?"
Walter nodded, staring at her shirt, which was yellow.
"Do you remember the picnic table, Laurie?" he asked her.
"What do you mean?" Laurie gave him a concerned look.
"With Mr. Petersen. And Agent Orange."
"No, what happened?"
"I think it was a dream," Walter admitted. He was dazed, and the room was far too hot. Laurie ran her cool fingers over his brow.
"You're burning up," she said, looking worried. "Maybe I should call a doctor."
"I'm fine," Walter told her. He tried to wave his arm at her in a dismissive gesture, but found himself unable to. Laurie frowned at him and gave him one last look before she left the room. Walter closed his eyes and turned onto his side. Maybe he could sleep a little and he would feel better. He thought Laurie came back into the room at some point later, but he wasn't certain. His head was spinning too hard for him to tell.
-----
To be continued...