Free A Stir of Echoes by Richard Matheson Page B

my mind-that she had no mother.
      "Is your mother dead?" I asked, without thinking; or, rather, thinking aloud.
      Her head turned quickly. In the darkness I could feel her eyes on me. I knew I was right even though she didn't speak.
      I cleared my throat.
      "Elsie mentioned it," I said, taking the risk that I was right as well as the risk that Elsie didn't even know about it.
      "Oh." From the way she said it I couldn't tell if she'd spotted my lie or not. She looked at the road again. So did I. I drove the rest of the way without a word, wondering what it was I felt so uneasy about.
      When we got to the house Dorothy got out of the car and walked to the front door. There she waited until I came up on the porch and opened it for her. I noticed how short she was.
      "Go on in," I said, feeling a crawling sensation on my back as she walked past me into the living room. Somehow it made me angry. I'd hoped for a pleasant evening of forgetfulness with Anne. Now all the disturbances were beginning again inexplicable and enraging.
      Anne came out of Richard's room into the living room.
      "Hi," she said.
      Dorothy's lips twitched into a mechanical smile. I saw that her white, thick-featured face was dotted with tiny pimples.
      "The baby's asleep," Anne told her. "You shouldn't have any trouble with him at all."
      Dorothy nodded. And-suddenly-I felt a shocking burst of dismay in myself. It made me catch my breath. When it left-almost immediately-it left me limp.
      "I'll be ready in a second," Anne said to me.
      I forget what I answered except that it was said distractedly. Anne went back into the bathroom to brush her hair and Dorothy stood by the back window, near where I'd seen the woman. Momentarily, I felt that cold, knotting sensation in my stomach. I smiled nervously at the girl as she glanced at me. I gestured toward the bookcase.
      "If you-uh-care to read anything," I said, "feel free to-"
      Her eyes fell from mine. She still had her jacket zipped to the neck, her hands deep in the slash pockets.
      "Take off your jacket, why don't you?" I said. She nodded without looking at me.
      I gazed at her a moment. What I felt was-as it had always been-without definition; more a sense of vague, remote discomfort than anything else.
      "Well, there's the television set," I said.
      She nodded once more.
      I went into the kitchen and got myself a drink of water. It tasted brackish to me. I remember pressing my lips together furiously, telling myself-Enough! You're going to enjoy yourself tonight if it kills you!
      "If you get hungry," I called to Dorothy, "feel free to take whatever you want in the icebox."
      No sound.
      As I went back in she was just starting to take off her jacket. I caught a momentary glimpse of breast outline much too heavy for a girl her age. Then the jacket was off, her shoulders had moved back into normal position and the large blouse she wore had fallen into veiling looseness around her. A flush darkened her cheeks. I walked past her as if I hadn't noticed. I went into the bathroom and looked over Anne's shoulder into the mirror.
      I smiled back at her reflection.
      "You all right?" she asked.
      "Sure. Why do you ask?"
      "You looked a little peaked."
      "I'm fine," I said. I drew a comb from my inside coat pocket and ran it through my hair. I wondered if she noticed the slight shaking of my hand. I wondered if she had any idea that I was considering the possibility I was losing my mind.
      "Oh, Dorothy," Anne said as we were leaving.
      "Yes." Dorothy got up from the sofa.
      "You'll have to lock the door from the inside. We can't do it with a key."
      "Oh." Dorothy nodded once.
      "Well, good night," said Anne. "We'll see you later."
      Dorothy grunted.
      I cannot describe the crushing sensation I felt when I heard the sound of the door being locked by Dorothy. For a moment I stood there rigidly, feeling my stomach