In Laymon's Terms

I grabbed its blackened tail-cord, barely feeling it singe my palms, and yanked...hauling the creature back a little from Carol. Then I turned and tugged from the other end. There was no give at first...the creature bellowed and I gave another pull with all I had. For a moment nothing...then I was thrown backwards and thought the creature had dragged me. Then I realized the cord had snapped away from the burning tree.

The Cedar was dropping its burning limbs as though in submission. Black smoke was pouring from it in a torrent, growing a dark mushroom in the sky above the house. The creature was screaming; with its connection to the tree broken it seemed to lose all strength to fight.

But that wasn’t enough. I forced myself to grab its severed tail and I dragged it across towards the inferno that had been our Cedar.

Only then did I notice the line of gawking people on the edge of the lawn. They were speaking and shouting, but I ignored them and kept to my purpose. Then the blare of sirens filled the air and I ignored those too. I picked the creature up by the tail, and in its cindered face I could see its pleading and horrified expression. Its front tentacle—that all-sensing stem—had been burned away to a little wavering nub.

I swung the creature into the heart of the burning Cedar.

Fire department, police vehicles, an ambulance...they gathered around the front of the house in a circus of flashing lights and hurrying uniforms. Firemen battled the tree and the side of our house, which had caught. Two medics prepared Carol to give birth on the lawn while two more begged me to come with them to the hospital. But I refused...I wouldn’t leave Carol so they worked to set my jaw, plug the hole in my stomach, and treat the burns right there on the lawn...I don’t think they even knew about my broken foot.

I was barely conscious. Carol’s face was covered in tears and smudges. Ash fell all around us like black snow, and smoke hung like thunderclouds above the house.

And our daughter was born into chaos.

I clenched my teeth and threw my head back as the medics plugged my belly, and beside me the baby screeched.

I could hear the swiiiiish! of the other trees in the neighborhood, the planet’s lungs, and I wondered.

Jim Hillman

’M JUST A FAN.

I can’t recall the exact moment that I became a fan. It wasn’t a dramatic transformation or conversion. I just remember continually searching the bookstores throughout the United States in search of anything written by Richard Laymon. It was a mission. Aside from some finds at used bookstores and an occasional short story discovered in a new horror anthology, my thirst sadly went unquenched.

Then one glorious day, a librarian told me that Richard Laymon was a big author in England (this was before the Internet explosion), so I went there. Utopia! A corner convenience store in London had a treasure trove of Laymon novels.

Sightseeing? No, I had Laymon books to read.

And, boy, did I read.

Island! I tried to talk my wife out of taking an island-hopping cruise. The Cellar! I insisted our first house was not to have a basement. The Quake! I bought earthquake insurance for my Indiana home. Funland! Now I am a Director of the National Amusement Park Historical Association. The list goes on. Coincidences?

It really doesn’t matter. What matters is that we have the stories, we got to know the gentleman author of horror, and now have the opportunity to come together in celebration of his life.

The following short sequel is for his fans, his family, Laymon himself, and librarians everywhere. Enjoy!

Jim Hillman

HE CALLED AND GOT directions. Before I gave the situation a second thought, Jill was knocking at my door. She wore a short black leather skirt and a light blue tank top. No bra, her perky nipples greeted me without reluctance.

I said nothing as she grabbed me and hugged. I squeezed her tightly back, feeling her warmth against my body and her nipples against my chest. It was a long, passionate embrace, followed by moist, powerful kisses.

“I want you,” she purred. She pushed me backwards, shut and locked the door, and began the process of undressing me. I tried to speak, but she was actively kissing and stroking me. We fucked hard.

I was still inside Jill when I saw her. I couldn’t say how long she had been watching.

Even though I immediately sloshed out of Jill and gathered my clothing, I wasn’t quick enough. My girlfriend was out the door and speeding off in her car before I stumbled onto the porch.

She had probably used the key I kept hidden under the porch mat and planned to surprise me. She often would come to my apartment late at night and seduce me. Only this time, she entered my apartment and caught me violently copulating with Jill. The act was raw. We were just animals operating by instinct. I felt no emotion for her.

Damn! I really screwed up. Why couldn’t I have just kept it in my pants? I guess we all make mistakes that we regret later.