gone up to their room and found the boys on one of the beds. Chris was straddling Danny's chest, ready to clobber his older brother. On the other bed sat Missy, a broad grin on her little face. She was clapping her hands with excitement.
Kathy pulled her sons apart. "What do you think you're doing?" she screamed. "What's the matter with you two? Are you going crazy?"
Missy chimed in, "Danny didn't want to clean up the room like you told him to."
Kathy looked sternly at the boy. "And why not, young man? Do you see what this room looks like?"
The room was a mess. Toys were scattered all over the floor, intermingled with discarded clothes. The tubes of an old paint set had been left uncapped, the pigments oozing onto the furniture and rug. Some of their new Christmas toys had already been broken and were discarded in corners of the bedroom. Kathy shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you. We bought this beautiful house so you'd have your own playroom, and look at what you've done!"
Danny tore himself loose from his mother's grip. "You don't want us to stay in that dumb old playroom!"
"Yeah!" Chris chimed in. "We don't like it around here. There's nobody to play with!"
Kathy and the boys bickered back and forth for another five minutes until Danny threw down the gauntlet and challenged his mother with the threat of running away from home. Kathy, in turn, suggested corporal punishment for their behavior. "And you know who dishes it out around here!"
By dinner time, the Lutz family bad settled down. The boys had cooled off, though Kathy could still feel an undercurrent of tension at the table. George had told Kathy he preferred staying home this New Year's Eve rather than facing drunks on the road home from her mother's house. They had made no plans to be with their friends, and it was too cold to go out to a movie.
After they had eaten, Kathy convinced George to move the ceramic lion back up to the sewing room. Again there were some flies clinging to the window pane facing the Amityville River. George angrily swatted them to death before slamming the door shut.
By ten o'clock, Missy bad fallen asleep on the livingroom floor. She had exacted a promise from Kathy to awaken her at midnight in time to blow her party horn. Danny and Chris were still up, playing near the Christmas tree and watching television. George was attending to his fire. Kathy sat across from him, trying to lose her depression by looking at an old movie with the boys.
As the night wore on, Father Mancuso's hands had been acting up again. Now the blisters were worse, breaking out on the backs of his hands. He couldn't put up with the thought of spending the entire night in pain and fright. When his doctor looked in on him, he suddenly shoved his palms out and said, "Look!"
Gently the physician examined the blisters. "Frank, I'm not a dermatologist," he said. "This could be anything from an allergy to an attack of anxiety. Has something been bothering you that badly?"
Father Mancuso turned sadly away from the doctor, his eyes staring out the window at the snow. "I think so. Something..." The priest brought his gaze back to the doctor "... or somebody."
The doctor assured the priest that he'd have some relief by the morning. Then he left for a New Year's Eve party.
On television, Guy Lombardo saluted the New Year from the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. The Lutzes watched the ball fall from the Allied Chemical Building in Times Square, but did not share the countdown with announcer
Don Grauer while he tolled off the last ten seconds of 1975.
Danny and Chris had -one up to their room about a half hour earlier, their eyes red from too much television and the smoke from George's fire. Kathy had put Missy into her bed and then come back downstairs to her chair across from George.
It was now exactly one minute after twelve. She stared into the fireplace, hypnotized by the dancing flames. Something was materializing in those flames-a white outline
Kathy pulled her sons apart. "What do you think you're doing?" she screamed. "What's the matter with you two? Are you going crazy?"
Missy chimed in, "Danny didn't want to clean up the room like you told him to."
Kathy looked sternly at the boy. "And why not, young man? Do you see what this room looks like?"
The room was a mess. Toys were scattered all over the floor, intermingled with discarded clothes. The tubes of an old paint set had been left uncapped, the pigments oozing onto the furniture and rug. Some of their new Christmas toys had already been broken and were discarded in corners of the bedroom. Kathy shook her head. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you. We bought this beautiful house so you'd have your own playroom, and look at what you've done!"
Danny tore himself loose from his mother's grip. "You don't want us to stay in that dumb old playroom!"
"Yeah!" Chris chimed in. "We don't like it around here. There's nobody to play with!"
Kathy and the boys bickered back and forth for another five minutes until Danny threw down the gauntlet and challenged his mother with the threat of running away from home. Kathy, in turn, suggested corporal punishment for their behavior. "And you know who dishes it out around here!"
By dinner time, the Lutz family bad settled down. The boys had cooled off, though Kathy could still feel an undercurrent of tension at the table. George had told Kathy he preferred staying home this New Year's Eve rather than facing drunks on the road home from her mother's house. They had made no plans to be with their friends, and it was too cold to go out to a movie.
After they had eaten, Kathy convinced George to move the ceramic lion back up to the sewing room. Again there were some flies clinging to the window pane facing the Amityville River. George angrily swatted them to death before slamming the door shut.
By ten o'clock, Missy bad fallen asleep on the livingroom floor. She had exacted a promise from Kathy to awaken her at midnight in time to blow her party horn. Danny and Chris were still up, playing near the Christmas tree and watching television. George was attending to his fire. Kathy sat across from him, trying to lose her depression by looking at an old movie with the boys.
As the night wore on, Father Mancuso's hands had been acting up again. Now the blisters were worse, breaking out on the backs of his hands. He couldn't put up with the thought of spending the entire night in pain and fright. When his doctor looked in on him, he suddenly shoved his palms out and said, "Look!"
Gently the physician examined the blisters. "Frank, I'm not a dermatologist," he said. "This could be anything from an allergy to an attack of anxiety. Has something been bothering you that badly?"
Father Mancuso turned sadly away from the doctor, his eyes staring out the window at the snow. "I think so. Something..." The priest brought his gaze back to the doctor "... or somebody."
The doctor assured the priest that he'd have some relief by the morning. Then he left for a New Year's Eve party.
On television, Guy Lombardo saluted the New Year from the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. The Lutzes watched the ball fall from the Allied Chemical Building in Times Square, but did not share the countdown with announcer
Don Grauer while he tolled off the last ten seconds of 1975.
Danny and Chris had -one up to their room about a half hour earlier, their eyes red from too much television and the smoke from George's fire. Kathy had put Missy into her bed and then come back downstairs to her chair across from George.
It was now exactly one minute after twelve. She stared into the fireplace, hypnotized by the dancing flames. Something was materializing in those flames-a white outline