Read Online In the Night Season by Richard Bausch - Free Book Online Page B

lie of one kind or another.”
    “I have to go to the bathroom,” Jason said.
    The other frowned at him. “You ain’t gonna play games with me, are you? I thought we were getting to be friends.”
    “I have to go,” Jason said.
    “Where’s the bathroom? Maybe I got to go, too.”
    The boy led him down the hall, past the telephone, to the little cubicle under the stairs. It was windowless, but there was a square vent there, behind the hamper, which looked to be fastened with screws. The screws had long ago worn smooth the plaster of the wall surrounding it. This duct led around a sharp angle and through several sections of wall to a guest bedroom on the other end of the house. Jason had used this as a secret passageway when he was younger, playing his own games of spying; once he had crouched in the small metal- and dust-smelling space at the end of the duct and watched his own baby-sitter necking on the bed with her boyfriend, and there had been times, playing with school friends, when he had gone the other way, from the bedroom, and on into the bathroom to hide. His father had been intending for years to fix it, seal it off.
    Now, Travis stood in the open door of the small bathroom and looked around. He stepped in and touched the wall, stared at himself in the mirror over the sink. “Man, I am one beautiful young dude.”
    “I don’t feel good,” Jason said.
    The other studied him a moment. “You must have to go bad.”
    “My stomach hurts.”
    “Oh, you’ve got that .” Travis looked at the room again. “Well, okay. But hurry. We’ve got to think about tonight. I promise you some excitement.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    He shook his head going out. “Sir. That is something. Sir.” He turned, holding onto the door, and surveyed the room once more. He glanced at the hamper and pulled the revolver out. “You ain’t got any hidden weapons or anything in here, right?”
    “No, sir.” Jason held his stomach and bent over slightly. “Ohh.”
    Travis walked over and opened the hamper, then upended it, pouring the dirty clothes out. He held the hamper up and moved the clothes with his boot. Then he looked at the vent for what seemed a terribly long time.
    “Ohh,” Jason said. “Come on , man.”
    Travis set the hamper back in its place. “All right, all right. Let her rip, kiddo.” He made a little saluting motion, putting the barrel of the pistol to his forehead. Then he closed the door. Jason put the hook in its little slot.
    “What was that?”
    “It’s just the hook.”
    “You don’t think I’m gonna want to come in when you get going on your business, do you?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Okay. So unlock the door.”
    He flicked the hook up. Then made another moaning sound.
    “Sounds bad,” Travis said, from the other side.
    “It’s bad,” the boy said. He flushed the toilet and moved the hamper aside.
    “Finished already?”
    “No,” he said and groaned. He waited a moment and then flushed the toilet once more and got himself down to the level of the vent. He was simply going to have to go ahead and take the chance that Travis would open the door on him. He pulled the metal screen off.
    “You okay in there?”
    “I’m okay.” He groaned, and waited and then groaned again.
    “Man, sounds bad.”
    “Come on,” Jason said. “I can’t do it with you listening in on me.”
    “I’m just standing here, kid.”
    Abruptly, he was sick. He got to the edge of the toilet and gagged, then spit.
    “Oh, hell,” came the voice from the other side of the door. “I hope you ain’t got some damn bug or something.”
    “Leave me alone,” Jason said. He reached up and flushed the toilet, then worked frantically to get his sneakers off, so many laces, so many useless laces for style, and how he hated them for it now. Finally, he was free and he crawled into the vent, feet first, pulling the sneakers after him. It had been a couple of years. His hips were tight in the opening. He turned his body slightly