A Stir of Echoes by Richard Matheson Page B

don't know what it is but it's something. And it's there, Anne. It's there."
      I remember the look she gave me. How, for a moment, she pressed her lips to Richard's white-blond hair.
      "It would be so nice," she said, almost to herself, "so nice."
      Frank let us in.
      "Greetings, fellow sufferers," he slurred. His beer-sweet breath fogged over us. "Hobble the hell on in."
      As we entered the living room, Elizabeth came out of the kitchen. It wasn't hard to tell they'd been fighting. Even if I hadn't sensed the swelling of tension in the air, I could see that Elizabeth had been crying.
      "Hello." She came toward us, forcing a smile, not looking at Frank. "Hello, dear," she said to Richard.
     
      Frank caught her around the waist as she came up to us and I saw his white fingers dig into the soft flesh of her stomach.
      "This is my wife, Lizzie," he said. "Lizzie, mother of my unborn brat."
      Elizabeth pulled away with a pained grimace and stooped down before Richard… hate!. .. The word seemed to flare in my mind the way a bulb does just before it has burned out and gone black.
      "You look so handsome, Richard," she said. There was a break in her voice. "That's a pretty suit."
      "Never tells me I'm handsome," Frank said.
      "Pity?" Richard plucked at the shirt and held the bright material out toward Elizabeth.
      "Oh, yes. So pretty."
      "Well, sittenzie down, guests," said Frank, "and name your poison-to quote the immortal lines of that world-famous bitch, Elsie Leigh."
      "You are in a good mood," I told him.
      "What, goddammit, is your pleasure, goddammit?" Frank said.
      "Nothing for me," Anne said stiffly. I said a glass of wine if he had some. He named off three. I said sauterne.
    "Saw-terne -coming goddamn up." Frank lurched away toward the kitchen with a belch.
      Elizabeth straightened up, a strained smile on her face.
      "He's had a bad day," she said, trying in vain to make it sound amusing. "Don't pay any attention to him."
      "Are you sure you want to bother with us, Liz?" Anne asked softly. "We wouldn't mind if-"
      "Oh, don't be silly, dear," Elizabeth said and I sensed a wave of taut unhappiness rushing through her. In the kitchen Frank belched again ringingly. "Key of C," he said.
     
      "Oh… before I forget," Elizabeth said, "did I leave a comb at your house the other day?"
      Anne clucked. "For heaven's sake," she said. "Yes. You did. I've been meaning to bring it back at least a dozen times and I keep forgetting. I'm sorry."
      "Oh, that's all right, dear," Elizabeth said. "I just want to know where it is. I'll pick it up sometime."
      "saw-terne." Frank came back in the room with a filled glass in his hand.
      "I'll get dinner ready," Elizabeth said, starting for the kitchen.
      "Let me help you," Anne offered.
      "There's nothing to do," Elizabeth said, smiling. The smile faded. Frank was blocking her way. "Frank," she said, pleadingly.
      "Lizzie doesn't talk here any more," he said. "Do you, Lizzie?"
      "Frank, let me by." Her voice was strained.
      "Oh, she's so mad, so mad." He pawed at her shoulder. "You mad there, Lizzie?"
      "I'll help you, Liz," Anne said, getting up and taking Richard's hand. Elizabeth opened her mouth as if to speak, then didn't. I could sense the gratitude and anger mixed in her. Frank stepped aside as Anne came over and the two women and Richard started into the kitchen.
      "One pregnant woman," itemized Frank, "one little boy. Two pregnant women." He blew out a whistling breath." 'Tis the season to be jolly." He snickered, "Pretty good, eh?" he asked me.
      "Just as funny as it can be," I said.
      "You don't think that, you sober bastard" he said. He handed me the glass roughly and some of the wine spilled up over the edge and across my hand. "Ooops," said Frank, "oops, oops."
      He just about fell down on the arm chair.
     
      "She's mad," he said, "just 'cause I told her to try and lift