The Box: Uncanny Stories Read Online Free PDF Page B

in the back booth push himself up and plod slowly down the length of the cafe. His cap was pushed to the back of his head and his high-topped shoes clomped heavily on the floor boards. Jean stood rigidly, holding a postcard in her hands as the man passed her. The washroom door opened and closed behind him.
    Silence. Jean stood there staring at the door, trying to hold herself under control. Her throat moved again. She took a deep breath and put the postcard back in place.
    “Here’s your sandwich,” the man at the counter called.
    Jean started at the sound of his voice. She nodded once at him but stayed where she was.
    Her breath caught as the washroom door opened again. She started forward instinctively, then drew back as the other man walked out, his face florid and sweaty. He started past her.
    “Pardon me,” she said.
    The man kept moving. Jean hurried after him and touched his arm, her fingers twitching at the feel of the hot, damp cloth.
    “Excuse me,” she said.
    The man turned and looked at her with dull eyes. His breath made her stomach turn.
    “Did you see my—my husband in there?”
    “Huh?”
    Her hands closed into fists at her sides.
    “Was my husband in the washroom?”
    He looked at her a moment as if he didn’t understand her. Then he said, “No, ma’am,” and turned away.
    It was very hot in there, but Jean felt as if she’d suddenly been submerged in a pool of ice water. She stood numbly watching the man stumble back to his booth.
    Then she found herself hurrying for the counter, for the man who sat drinking from his water-beaded bottle of beer.
    He put down the bottle and turned to face her as she came up.
    “Pardon me, but did you see my husband in the washroom before?”
    “Your husband?”
    She bit her lower lip. “Yes, my husband. You saw him when we came in. Wasn’t he in the washroom when you were there?”
    “I don’t recollect as he was, ma’am.”
    “You mean you didn’t see him in there?”
    “I don’t recollect seein’ him, ma’am.”
    “Oh this—this is ridiculous,” she burst out in angry fright. “He must have been in there.”
    For a moment they stood looking at each other. The man didn’t speak; his face was blank.
    “You’re—sure?” she asked.
    “Ma’am, I got no reason to lie to you.”
    “All right. Thank you.”
    She sat stiffly at the counter staring at the two sandwiches and milk shakes, her mind in desperate search of a solution. It was Bob—he was playing a joke on her. But he wasn’t in the habit of playing jokes on her and this was certainly no place to start. Yet he must have. There must be another door to the washroom and—
    Of course. It wasn’t a joke. Bob hadn’t gone into the washroom at all. He’d just decided that she was right; the place was awful and he’d gone out to the car to wait for her.
    She felt like a fool as she hurried toward the door. The man might have told her that Bob had gone out. Wait till she told Bob what she’d done. It was really funny how a person could get upset over nothing.
    As she pulled open the screen door she wondered if Bob had paid for what they’d ordered. He musthave. At least the man didn’t call after her as she went out.
    She moved into the sunlight and started toward the car, almost closing her eyes completely to shut out the glare on the windshield. She smiled to herself thinking about her foolish worrying.
    “Bob, wait till I—”
    Unreasoning dread pressed her insides into a tight knot. She stood in the pounding heat and stared into the empty car. She felt a scream pushing up in her throat. “
Bob
—”
    She started running around the side of the cafe looking for the other entrance. Maybe the washroom was too dirty; maybe Bob had gone out a side door and couldn’t find his way around the shed that was attached to the cafe.
    She tried to look through one of the shed’s windows, but it was covered with tar paper on the inside. She ran around to the back of the cafe and looked out