Dancing with the Devil

Chapter Twelve

“Let us in, Mac!” Frankie and Dante called, pounding on the bathroom door.

Mackenzie’s head throbbed in time with every blow. Maybe I should lean against something else, then. But she couldn’t move. She doubted she was even capable of getting up to turn the knob at this point.

She heard Dante’s voice. “If she hasn’t opened it by now, I doubt she’s going to.”

Mac groaned when Frankie hollered through the crack, “Dude, you don’t open up right now, we’re going to stop Charlie from his maid duties and have him take this thing right off the hinges.” Mac could imagine Dante’s worried look when she heard Frankie add, “It’s no biggie, my parents have done it to my door tons of time.”

After a few minutes the lock clicked, the knob turned, and Mackenzie stumbled out. She was damp with sweat, her skin felt flushed, and she grimaced as she got whiffs of her own stank breath. Frankie waved her hand in front of her face as a foul odor wafted out of the room. She sidled by Mac, and started the water running down the sink.

“I don’t think all the chunks are going to rinse down this drain,” Frankie said, holding her nose. “I thought you said you skipped dinner?”

“Gross, Frank,” Dante said.

“I’m just saying.”

After the bathroom was cleaned up and Dante found a new toothbrush in the linen closet for Mac to use, they made their way to the kitchen. Mackenzie sat down with a thud and started hiccupping. “I feel like my pummach was stumped.” She belched. “Uh, my stomach was pumped. Those Coke rummies really go right to your headache. I mean, head.”

Dante rolled his eyes. “No, you do mean headache, girlie girl.”

The three of them sat at the kitchen table while Dante bossed Charlie around, directing him to wipe this or sweep that. Charlie obeyed, but not without complaining every time he came through with a full garbage bag. He tossed the latest one onto the growing pile; it clattered with the sound of bottles and cans clanking together.

“Uh, uh, uh,” Dante said, waggling his finger back and forth. “You crawl right into that bag, Chazzie, and separate those recyclables. We wouldn’t want to destroy our precious earth before it’s absolutely necessary.”

Mackenzie laid her head on the table, her arms hanging at her sides. She moaned. “How could he do that to her?”

From behind the gigantic pile of garbage bags, Charlie said, “Because she’s hot…”

“Shut UP,” Dante and Frankie yelled at once.

Mac moaned again. “He shouldn’t do that to his own flesh and blood. It’s unnatural. It’s incestuous.”

“Dude, it’s weird but it’s not like they’re actually related,” Frankie said.

Dante stroked Mackenzie’s head. “I think all those mixed drinks got you mixed up.”

“Yeah, you’ll feel better tomorrow,” Frankie said. “Well, maybe not tomorrow. But definitely the day after.”

Mackenzie lifted her head from the table, and leaned it on her hand. “No. It’s totally gross, I’m telling you. He’s in the same family. Family shouldn’t do that kind of … those kinds of … it’s disgusting.” Her eyes wobbled in their sockets and she asked, “Why is the room spinning?”

Dante said, “It’s not like they grew up in the same house or anything. And anyway, Grady and Sophie were an item—”

“Oh, is that how their parents met?” Charlie interrupted as he came back in from another trash delivery.

“SHUT UP!”

Miffed, he added, “As long as you’re not blood related, all bets are off, I say.” 

Dante shushed him. “You don’t get to say. You just get to clean this house. He waved him off and said, “Be gone!”

Mac said, “If I were stronger, I would’ve been able to stop it.” She shook her head. “I’m going to have to kill him.”

And then she passed out.

* * *

Mac felt very heavy and very light. She felt her body lean forward as Frankie bent over and slipped the key from under the fake rock by the back door. She heard her tell someone to hold her. It must be Dante. Usually she liked his cologne but her stomach wasn’t doing too good. 

The door opened and Mac was half-dragged, half-carried into the house. 

“I don’t think anyone heard anything, do you?” Frankie whispered.

Dante shook his head. “Nah.”

The lights went on. Mac groaned; her eyelids felt as thin as tissue paper.

“Can I change my answer?” Dante asked.

They tried to shield their eyes, but Mac started to slip to the floor. Squinting, they saw Barb leaning against the kitchen doorway in her bathrobe and slippers, her arms folded.

“What happened to your ‘quick bite’?”

Mackenzie’s chin rested on her chest, her head lolling. Her hair flopped down like fringe on a nightshade. She tried to lift her head so she could tell Barb something funny…biting isn’t nice. No, that’s not funny. What was it again?

Mac hoped she didn’t reek of rum and vomit and briefly squinted through her lashes just in time to catch Frankie exchange a look with Dante. As toasted as she was, she knew what that look meant. What if I get grounded and can’t go on the trip because of this?

It seemed like Barb read their minds. “Mr. Douglas is coming in on the red eye and is meeting us at the bus …” She looked at the clock. “…in a couple of hours. I might as well put on a pot,” she said as she started fixing the coffee. “Mackenzie has about ninety minutes to sleep. Go pour this girl into bed, then you two come back here and tell me what happened.”

Mac said, "What do you mean? Nothing happened,” but it came out more like “Whasshmeanhappnd?”

Barb said, “I know you don’t drink so something must’ve happened.”

* * *

Mac felt her sister before she heard her.

“Kenzie?” Lily whispered. Mackenzie didn’t answer, hoping Lily would quietly disappear.

No such luck. Lily placed a hand on each of Mac’s cheeks and leaned down until she was nose to nose with her big sister. Mac sighed.

“Ew! You are too stinky!” Lily gave up her effort at a quiet awakening and loudly announced that she needed to come down to the kitchen right away. Mac’s head throbbed and it wasn’t until she was halfway down the hall that she remembered her trip began today.

The kitchen was a mess. From the looks of things, someone had devoured half a dozen scrambled eggs, a bunch of juicy, browned sausages, and whole-wheat toast slathered with melted butter and raspberry jam. Mac’s stomach lurched.

“Okay,” Barb said, standing. “Your friends left about an hour or so ago. They told me everything I needed to know and I’ve come to this conclusion. We’ll keep this our little secret. You have been punished enough—or rather, will be by the time this day is half over, Mackenzie. The worst of it is still to come. Lucky you don’t have to ride until tomorrow.” She shook her head.

Lily bounced into the kitchen and gave her mom a big kiss hello. “Kenzie smells very bad, Mama. She’s leaving today, right?”

“Yep, that’s right, Punkin,” Barb said, glancing at Mac standing half comatose by the coffeemaker. “In fact, the two of you need to go get dressed. We don’t want to be late to the bus!”