Eight Arms To Hold You
by Clay Waters

     "Wendy, you're making a glorious mess in here," Denise said, passing through the swinging door into the kitchen.

      "I'm making buckwheat pancakes, yum!" Wendy flipped the pancake and it landed half-on, half-off the griddle. "Oops." She scraped it back on. Wendy glowed. "I saw this McDonald's commercial for pancakes and it made me so hungry."

     "Maybe it's that gooked-up tea you drink." Denise poured some orange juice. "It's got this in it." Wendy opened her tortoise-shell journal and plucked a dried-up stalk of golden flowers from between the pages. "Sniff it, but try not to break it."

    Denise sniffed. "This is St. John's Wort. The happy herb."

    Wendy's eyes widened further. "You're so smart, stepsis. You and my brother

    Billy should have been brother and sister for real."

   "That would make Jack your real brother, then."

   "Oh God. But seriously, Billy is doing something incredibly complicated back there with his Apple, and you're just an all-around genius. They let you two play around with chemicals at school."

   "Speaking of which, I trust you're taking your medicine? You look kind of puffy."

    "Dr. Mehrudi said my moods would go up and down. Right now I feel great. Can I play some records?"

    "It's your birthday party."

    "I hope everyone comes."

    "Maybe your Dad will call."

    Wendy shrugged. "When he's doing his Army thing he doesn't think of anything else. I think he's happier down at Fort Bradley."

     "Me too, I must say. What my mom was thinking when she married your dad is beyond me. His tour ends in three weeks and it's back to tiptoeing around the house hoping he doesn't yell at us." Wendy came back with her Heart albums. She set the stack down and pulled a record out of a sleeve. "Christ!"

    "Wendy, what's wrong?"

    Denise stared at the ruined surface of Bebe Le Strange-a needle had been dragged across both sides.

    "Jack?!" Wendy looked around the kitchen as if waiting for her stepbrother to appear.

    "Jack's out in his 4-wheel, Wendy. Probably doing donuts in people's yards."

     Wendy put her fingers to her mouth and chewed. The tips were red and fiery, having been chewed to the quick.

    "I'll buy you a new one, sis."

    "Thanks." Wendy sighed. "And I was so happy when I got up."

    "Too happy?"

    "I'm taking my pills." Wendy's teeth squeaked when she ground them. "Not everything is about my pills."

    "OK. I'm backing off. Just remember we care about you. There are eight arms to hold you in this family. There's me, there's my Mom, there's Billy, and even your crazy Dad" Denise folded Wendy's baby-fat body in a hug. "So Jack's outnumbered."

    Wendy's brother Billy came downstairs, looking rough.

    "Look what the cat dragged in," Wendy said.

    "Don't I know it." Billy licked his finger and tried to smooth out the cowlick of hair flying off. "I've been up all damn night." He made a charade of typing. "Hey, birthday girl. What is it, two and a half already?" He pressed his finger in the center of Wendy's glossy forehead.

    "14, thanks."

     "What's wrong?"

    "Jack's being Jack." Denise said.

    "That's never good."

    "Put your spider in his bed, Wendy," Denise said. "Hey Billy, have you seen her new tarantula?"

    "No and I'm not going to."

    "It's white as a skeleton. It's called a Sri Lankan Ornamental. Man is it quick." Denise did a shudder.

     "Ok, that's enough." Billy grimaced. He started the coffee. "Not my sister's style anyway. She'd rather cast a spell on him, right, Wendy?"

    "Hey, it works. I tried a money spell with green cloth and quartz and the next day I found a $10 bill at the shopping center."

    "Great. Next time we'll play the lottery. Let me see what you wrote." Denise grabbed for Wendy's notebook.

    "No! It's private." Wendy snatched it up.

    "You don't want me to tickle you, do you? Coochie coo!"

    "No!" Wendy circled the table to dodge Denise."

    "Get her, Billy!"

    "No, I give up, take it!" Wendy shrieked as if she'd was already being tickle tortured, slamming the notebook down.

     "Thank you, dear sister." Denise picked it up. "Wow, there are lots of spells in here."

    "Don't read them, I mean it."

     Denise cleared her throat and started reading louder than necessary as Wendy ran from the room, covering her ears and humming.

     "Meaner than St. George's dragon/Crueler than an Arctic draft/Heap Curses On The Jack-Ass/Who has earned Wendy's wrath!" Denise wrinkled her nose. "Hmm. Wendy! Get in here. This one about Jack? It's rather, um, strange."

    Wendy came back in. "It's bad, I know. I wrote it after he threw my feathers out the window. Read the last ones, those are better."

    "Yeah, you worked harder on these. I can hardly read them, in fact." Denise tried to discern the final intent amid the cross-outs and false starts. "I like the one about demon possession, though. Short and sweet."

    Outside an obnoxiously loud motor revved twice and died. Billy had the best view on the door. "Morning Jack. Pot run done for the day?"

     "Up yours, Billy." Jack had chunky dark hair and a crooked mouth that was perpetually on the edge of a sneer. A belt buckle that read KISS failed to hold in a stomach from flopping over a Kiss Destroyer tour T-shirt.

     "Jack, you know Wendy's having a party tonight. And you're invited. Free cake and a special brand of tea."

    "With Wendy's witchy friends? It'll be good for Billy to meet girls from outside the family."

    "Wouldn't incest be more of a metal thing, Jack?"

     "Wow, Billy's the little man now! Just wait after I tell your Pops about you and Sis. Be nice to have some room, it's been cramped as hell since you got here."

      "How did we emerge from the same gene pool, Jack? Denise said. "I can't figure it out."

     "Miss Perfect SAT couldn't figure something out? Oh my God." Jack said.

      "Jealousy is an ugly emotion, brother. Remember the party tonight."

       "Let me tell you about Heart. The Wilson sisters fucked their way into the band. Fact." Jack plump pale fingers formed an OK. He took a Mr. Pibb out of the fridge and chugged up the stairs.

     Wendy asked, "What does Billy have against Jack?"

      Denise rolled her eyes. "Because Billy is smart and civilized, two things Jack will never be. He's telling everyone we're having an affair."

     "Jackass."

      "You said it. We're going to go to the store. You like Mr. Pibb, right?"

      "Yes, please. And some grasshoppers for Spike. He needs cheering up. He really hates this weather, all this rain."

      "That's the Great Northwet for you. I'll see what I can do on the grasshopper front."

******

      "Oh it looks great!"

      "Well they got the hair color right, the rest was pretty easy," Denise set the cake on the table. The icing was done up in a klutzy but reasonably faithful mock-up of the Bebe Le Strange album cover, an assertive face shot of Nancy and Ann Wilson, their bountiful locks rendered in wavy curves of chocolate and butterscotch.

     "Mom's making herself scarce, but she said don't open your presents until tomorrow." Denise gestured to the small stack of wrapped gifts in the corner.

      Wendy had gussied up the kitchen table with red and black glitter and had hung a poster on the swinging door. Denise had bought another Bebe Le Strange album which was now spinning on the turntable. She was wearing her 'purple passion' dress.

     The doorbell rang and Wendy went to answer it.

      Jack stood over the cake, fingered the icing. Denise slapped his hand away.

      "Jack, thanks for coming."

      "Well Denise got down on her knees and said please, so I'm here."

      Wendy cuffed Jack on the back of the head. "Lisa's here."

      "Hey Lisa!" Denise spoke to a slight girl in an AC/DC T-shirt that draped her like a nightgown. Lisa smiled shyly.

       Wendy said, "Doreen and Eve will be here soon I hope. What do you think of my poster?"

      "It's awesome."

      "Lisa, you know everyone." Wendy looked at Jack. "The cake looks good, Jack," Wendy said. "And I know you picked it out, Jack, since we know how much you love my Heart records."

         Jack cut a rough slab of cake. "What the fuck is she talking about?"

         Denise gave him a deadpan look. "Did you scratch up her record?"

        Jack thought about it. "Not today," he said, licking chocolate off his thumb.

*******

       In the den Wendy picked out chords on her acoustic guitar, sounds that eventually steamed up to become a few seconds of "Magic Man" or "Barracuda" before getting tangled up in noise. The other girls sat cross-legged, sprawled out on a fruit salad of pillows and blankets around the cold teapot.

      Denise, Billy and Jack sat in the kitchen. Denise and Billy nodded when one of Wendy's quiet friends passed through to politely swipe a soda. Jack didn't. His chunky dark hair seemed matted to the table. Billy said "Look alive Jack, it's not even 11."

     "I think the "eye of newt" tea got to him. He drank five cups, told him it had marijuana in it. What a dope." Denise winked at Billy.

     Wendy poked her head in. "We're going upstairs. Read some magazines."

    "And play on the ouija board?" Denise asked.

    "Maybe." Wendy sounded defensive.

      "Had it planned all along, huh? Getting the coven together. You little devil."

     Wendy blushed. "I love Heart."

      "I know you do, kiddo. Have fun. Just don't summon any noisy spirits."

********

       Betsy Zagury-Cotton was up before everyone. She hated to wake anybody, but it was past 10 a.m. and she needed bacon and eggs and breakfast things for the children, if they ever did wake up. She'd let Billy sleep, the boy always had projects going. Let Jack do something for a change. She looked in on the boys' room. She shook Jack once, then tossed the contorted sheets around until she saw his face. Jack's mouth was a fetid maw caked with vomit.

     Mrs. Zagury-Cotton wasn't a screamer. She went over to Billy in the other twin bed and shook him. "Billy, my baby's dead!"

*********

      "Hi mom, just checking to see how you were doing. We were there yesterday, remember?" Denise let the phone cord curl around her legs. "She's alright, I guess. They still seem to think-yeah. They found cyanide powder in one of her tins. And there was Valium in the tea we all drank.

     "The girls said they were reading from Wendy's spells, conjuring up demons or whatever. She had some spell made up with wintergreen oil. What does the doc say?"

      "Love you too. Don't worry about us." Denise hung up.

      "Is she ready to come home?" Billy was laying on his twin bed.

      Denise shook her head. "She's still kind of loopy. Wendy is two floors above her in the loony wing."

      The house was dark, the shutters drawn. Outside it was drizzling rain. Denise was in the boys' bedroom, where Jack's stuff had been shrined off in a corner. She scooted his twin bed over flush with Billy's, doubling the bed space. Billy rolled over. "So soon?"

     "You worry too much." Denise was naked except for a piece of yellow police tape around her breasts. Wendy was being held at the Medical Center under mental supervision, on suspicion of poisoning her stepbrother. Jack Zagury-Cotton had been buried six days ago.

     "Nicely done, hmm? Wendy goes off her Valium without even knowing it, which makes her less stable. She was bug-eyed and sweaty enough to lock away on general principles. Amazing how you can just open the capsules and empty out the Valium and put in anything you want. Go in a drugstore, poison a bunch of strangers. The perfect crime."

      Denise stretched her legs, rubbing her feet through Billy's shaggy hair until he rolled over. "Something wrong, brother of mine?"

     "Just tired. I haven't slept right in a month."

     "It will pass." She looked at him. "Something else wrong?"

     "She's a sweet girl."

      "Yeah, but she was insane."

     "Not really."

      "Oh yeah? Someone who really thought she could cast spells? Someone who buys the biggest grossest spider she can find? Remind me to drop a brick on that thing, if it hasn't starved to death yet. Wendy was right about one thing, you know. We should have been brother and sister. Now we've got it all. I'll be valedictorian, and you'll make a million bucks writing operating software in Seattle."

       "No guarantees."

        "I believe in you. You can write code at night and on weekends, knowing your reward for being such a hard working man." She let the tape fall to the floor. Billy thought he heard a crunching sound down the hall, like paper being balled up. But he was distracted.

     "She'll be happier down in Steilacoom anyway. It worked for Frances Farmer. Just think how free we are now. No more of disgusting Jack and his gossip. No smelly chem lab just to have a little fun. A divorce from the jarhead."

        ....called up by a curse of rare authority, the demon went for the first living thing it sensed. The crunchy morsel of the beast's fear inflamed a hunger for more. The demon assumed the prickly, spindly body of the arthropod, grew to a size that could hold the spirit's insatiable anger at being woken...

     Denise was saying, "We can do this every night. How many days between now and graduation?"

     "About 900." Billy thought, 900 days and nights with his beautiful stepsister with her dark hair and fierce boy-brains and incredible sexual imagination.

     Denise grunted. "Make it 1000. 1000 Arabian Nights. Oh God, I gotta get up or I'll have to take a shower. God, I'm wet. Oh God. Ahhh!" Denise sunk down on the put-together bed, clutching herself.

     Billy couldn't even look at her for long. It was so hot when Miss Perfect SAT went animal on him, for him, because of him. "Come on," he gasped, getting on top, helpless and pleading, breathing quick, shallow breaths. "Please." He got on top of her, letting Pascal code run through his mind, trying to hold out for a few seconds at least-

      A shot of Denise's spittle hit his shoulder and congealed. "What's that, sis?" Denise didn't move; a clammy pustule of sweat stuck them together, thigh awkwardly sucked onto thigh.

    He lifted his head. The shadow of a moving figure moved against the bedroom wall. Mom?

    But there was no screaming; just an odd dragging sound, like a hairbrush across a carpet.

    "Who's there?" He whispered into the Denise's cold ear.

     Denise had frozen into marble beneath him, but in her unblinking eye he saw something moving behind them.

     Something strange and big and maybe furry.

     On the wall the figure's shadow unfolded gigantically, gangly arms waving.

     Not arms: Legs. One two three-

     When Billy got to six he stopped counting and started shrieking.