Stephen King - Full Dark, No Stars

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Copyright 2010 by Stephen King

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Library of Congress Control Number: 2010032866

ISBN 978-1-4391-9256-6
ISBN 978-1-4391-9259-7 (ebook)

For Tabby
Still.

April 11, 1930

Magnolia Hotel
Omaha, Nebraska

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

My name is Wilfred Leland James, and this is my confession. In June of 1922 I murdered my wife, Arlette Christina Winters James, and hid her body by tupping it down an old well. My son, Henry Freeman James, aided me in this crime, although at 14 he was not responsible; I cozened him into it, playing upon his fears and beating down his quite normal objections over a period of 2 months. This is a thing I regret even more bitterly than the crime, for reasons this document will show.

The issue that led to my crime and damnation was 100 acres of good land in Hemingford Home, Nebraska. It was willed to my wife by John Henry Winters, her father. I wished to add this land to our freehold farm, which in 1922 totaled 80 acres. My wife, who never took to the farming life (or to being a farmers wife), wished to sell it to the Farrington Company for cash money. When I asked her if she truly wanted to live downwind from a Farringtons hog butchery, she told me we could sell up the farm as well as her fathers acreagemy fathers farm, and his before him! When I asked her what we might do with money and no land, she said we could move to Omaha, or even St. Louis, and open a shop.

I will never live in Omaha, I said. Cities are for fools.

This is ironic, considering where I now live, but I will not live here for long; I know that as well as I know what is making the sounds I hear in the walls. And I know where I shall find myself after this earthly life is done. I wonder if Hell can be worse than the City of Omaha. Perhaps it is the City of Omaha, but with no good country surrounding it; only a smoking, brimstone-stinking emptiness full of lost souls like myself.

We argued bitterly over that 100 acres during the winter and spring of 1922. Henry was caught in the middle, yet tended more to my side; he favored his mother in looks but me in his love for the land. He was a biddable lad with none of his mothers arrogance. Again and again he told her that he had no desire to live in Omaha or any city, and would go only if she and I came to an agreement, which we never could.

I thought of going to Law, feeling sure that, as the Husband in the matter, any court in the land would uphold my right to decide the use and purpose of that land. Yet something held me back. Twas not fear of the neighbors chatter, I had no care for country gossip; twas something else. I had come to hate her, you see. I had come to wish her dead, and that was what held me back.

I believe that there is another man inside of every man, a stranger, a Conniving Man. And I believe that by March of 1922, when the Hemingford County skies were white and every field was a snow-scrimmed mudsuck, the Conniving Man inside Farmer Wilfred James had already passed judgment on my wife and decided her fate. Twas justice of the black-cap variety, too. The Bible says that an ungrateful child is like a serpents tooth, but a nagging and ungrateful Wife is ever so much sharper than that.

I am not a monster; I tried to save her from the Conniving Man. I told her that if we could not agree, she should go to her mothers in Lincoln, which is sixty miles westa good distance for a separation which is not quite a divorce yet signifies a dissolving of the marital corporation.

And leave you my fathers land, I suppose? she asked, and tossed her head. How I had come to hate that pert head-toss, so like that of an ill-trained pony, and the little sniff which always accompanied it. That will never happen, Wilf.

I told her that I would buy the land from her, if she insisted. It would have to be over a period of timeeight years, perhaps tenbut I would pay her every cent.

A little money coming in is worse than none, she replied (with another sniff and head-toss). This is something every woman knows. The Farrington Company will pay all at once, and their idea of top dollar is apt to be far more generous than yours. And I will never live in Lincoln. Tis not a city but only a village with more churches than houses.

Do you see my situation? Do you not understand the spot she put me in? Can I not count on at least a little of your sympathy? No? Then hear this.

In early April of that yeareight years to this very day, for all I knowshe came to me all bright and shining. She had spent most of the day at the beauty salon in McCook, and her hair hung around her cheeks in fat curls that reminded me of the toilet-rolls one finds in hotels and inns. She said shed had an idea. It was that we should sell the 100 acres and the farm to the Farrington combine. She believed they would buy it all just to get her fathers piece, which was near the railway line (and she was probably right).

Then, said this saucy vixen, we can split the money, divorce, and start new lives apart from each other. We both know thats what you want. As if she didnt.

Ah, I said (as if giving the idea serious consideration). And with which of us does the boy go?

Me, of course, she said, wide-eyed. A boy of 14 needs to be with his mother.

I began to work on Henry that very day, telling him his mothers latest plan. We were sitting in the hay-mow. I wore my saddest face and spoke in my saddest voice, painting a picture of what his life would be like if his mother was allowed to carry through with this plan: how he would have neither farm nor father, how he would find himself in a much bigger school, all his friends (most since babyhood) left behind, how, once in that new school, he would have to fight for a place among strangers who would laugh at him and call him a country bumpkin. On the other hand, I said, if we could hold onto all the acreage, I was convinced we could pay off our note at the bank by 1925 and live happily debt-free, breathing sweet air instead of watching pig-guts float down our previously clear stream from sun-up to sun-down. Now what is it you want? I asked after drawing this picture in as much detail as I could manage.