Read Online Poltergeist II - The Other Side by James Kahn - Free Book Online Page A

did well to keep in practice.
    Still, Taylor could see he would have to do much to help this man in spite of himself, until the man’s spirit awoke.
    “Your car . . .” said Taylor tentatively.
    “Yeah?” said Steve.
    “It’s very angry.”
    “Uh-huh,” said Steve.
    “I’ll fix it,” Taylor volunteered.
    “Make it happy?” Steve goaded.
    “Uh-huh.” Taylor smiled.
    They were humoring each other.
    After about an hour of phone calls, Diane finally succeeded in tracking down Tangina Barrons at a boardinghouse in Hollywood.
    She had let the phone ring about ten times, actually, and was about to hang up when a man’s voice answered, speaking Spanish.
    “Oh . . . I’m sorry . . .” said Diane. “I must have the wrong number.” Then, on a second thought: “Is . . . Tangina Barrons there?”
    “ Momento ,” said the voice, followed by a rhythmic scrape-and-silence for a minute—Diane could almost see the receiver dangling from a wall phone in a dark corridor, swinging slowly back and forth, brushing the wall at the end of each pass.
    At last another voice came on the line. A familiar voice. “This is Tangina.”
    “Tangina!” Diane breathed, at once relieved and concerned. “Are you . . . all right?”
    The smile in Tangina’s voice was audible. “I’m fine, Diane. That was just the . . . concierge.”
    Diane laughed. “You recognized me.”
    “Well—I kind of expected you’d be callin’.”
    “Then you did send Taylor.” Diane relaxed.
    “Well . . . I directed him to where you’re livin’. Nobody sends Taylor anywhere. He just follows his dreams.”
    “Well, he just showed up on our doorstep last night as we were on our way . . .” She paused. “They’re back, Tangina.”
    “I know, child. I’ve been havin’ dreams, too. I’d have come to you myself, but I’m . . . not up to par, you might say.”
    “What is it?” Diane’s concern filled her voice. “Is there something I can—”
    “You just tend to your own, child. The Beast knows what scares you, but you’ve got strengths it can’t understand. And Taylor’s a good man. Trust him.”
    “Yes, I do . . . I think. And you may deny it, but he says you sent him, and if he values you as a reference, I’m sure he can’t be all bad . . .”
    “Just don’t get upset if he wants to put pieces of bark or shells or such all around your pretty carpets.”
    Diane laughed lightly. “Yes, well, he seems very different . . .”
    Steve, overhearing this as he fixed himself a beer, looked through the kitchen window to the back yard, where Taylor was playing with Robbie and Carol Anne beside the tent he’d erected. A tent marked with strange designs, hung with claws and feathers. Steve dead panned to Diane: “Oh, he’s very different. I’d say.”
    Diane tried to ignore him as she finished up on the phone. “Right, Tangina. Well, I can’t say Steve really trusts him fully just yet . . . but I can’t really blame him, I guess . . .”
    “Steve has to learn to trust himself fast,” said Tangina. “But I’m in no position to give him instruction in that little trick.” Her voice had suddenly become sardonic, almost self-abusive. “Well, I gotta go, honey. Good luck to you. If anyone can help you, Taylor can.”
    “Good-bye,” said Diane, but before she could say more, Tangina hung up. Diane wondered if she’d ever see her again—she’d sounded so lost.
    She walked over to Steve. “Let’s give him a chance, Steve.”
    He looked put-upon. “Diane, I’ve read a lot of Indian books. I feel as bad as the next guy about Wounded Knee. I mean, I like Indians . . . but we don’t know anything about this guy. What if he’s just escaped from the reservation, or jail, or the hospital, or—”
    Diane interrupted his tirade by putting her hand on his arm and pointing out the window.
    There, beside the tent, stood Taylor, alone. But not alone. For covering his body were hundreds of butterflies—delicately lighting, panting,