****
Elizabeth stood terrified before the big hoodlum.
"I'm called Skunk, bitch. I bet you heard of me," snarled the apparition.
"Yeah," she replied, her voice cracking. She had heard that a nasty hood named Skunk was the leader of a local motor cycle gang that dealt in illegal drugs. He had even been driven off the Reservation several times.
Skunk was grinning and eyeing her like she was meat on the hoof. His piece of meat. Skunk’s open leer moved slowly down her body, his eyes stripping away her clothes, then, still in no hurry, they moved back up to again gouge her eyes. The ugly bastard smiled, licked his lips lewdly, and even winked.
Thinking of poor Janet, Elizabeth was almost as angry as she was terrified. Almost. Looking around quickly for some means of escape, she discovered four additional men, each as big and ugly as Skunk, circling her, cutting off any possible escape. Cornered, she backed into Janet's office and stood next to the librarian's chair, putting her hand on her friend's trembling shoulder to steady herself as much as to comfort the sobbing librarian.
"Hey bitch, stay put," commended Skunk. "You’re hot for me; I can see it in your eyes.” Moving as light on his feet as a huge cat, he stepped into the office, circling around the other side of Janet and coming up behind Elizabeth, where she stood frozen.
She felt his steamy breath on her neck and in her right ear as he spoke into it, and smelled his putrid breath. "Nice looking little bitch, ain't you?" Suddenly his huge hands clamped down on both her arms with irresistible force, and he pressed the front of his body hard against the length of hers. “Oh, yeah! Forget them Indian braves baby, I can give you all you need and more.”
She felt helpless and violated. And mad as hell. After a near eternal second or two frozen in shock, she arched her back and drove her head up and back into his face, while kicking at his legs above the boots as hard as she could with a Nike clad foot, and twisted violently out of his grip.
He cursed as she fell away from him and onto the floor, while the other men laughed and shouted obscenities. She tried to pull her feet under herself to stand; she intended to spring away from Skunk or even at him. She had taken a course on self-defense in college, and her mind was suddenly alive with visions of gouging out his mocking eyes or kicking him again where he’d feel it a lot more. At the same time she was so terrified that her body shook uncontrollably and she could hardly stand up. Attacking the monster before her seemed out of the question; she decided to instead run for the door.
He didn’t let her. His big left hand shot forward to encircle her neck and hold her motionless. “Big mistake bitch!” he shouted, spit and blood from his cut lip spraying her face. He lifted her up by her neck as his right hand formed a grapefruit-sized fist that drew back to clobber her.
“Whoooo,” cried an owl angrily from the book stacks behind the circle of men. "Whoo-whoo-whooo."
The sudden resulting look of surprise quickly disappeared from Skunk's ugly face, to be replaced by a big, gap-toothed smile. "Why it's just our old buddy Dooley, boys, come to join in on the fun. Get the door locked Mike, we don't want any more party goers coming in or getting out." One of the men ran towards the outside door, the others fanned out towards the disembodied owl hooting that persistently came from somewhere in the book stacks.
“Let her go,” shouted Dooley, from behind the stacks.
"Why?” Skunk replied. “You want her for yourself boy? You even like girls? I bet you do! I bet you look at lots of girls when you're sneaking around town at night. And you spy at lots of Reservation girls too! That right?" With a wave of his hand Skunk signaled his three remaining thugs to move towards the stacks and Dooley.
"You sending your men to get me, Skunk? Is old Dooley too much for you to tackle alone? You afraid of Dooley, Skunk? Owls eat Skunks, you know. Whoooo Whooooooo."
As Skunk's men paused their assault of the stacks to laugh, rage ignited Skunk’s reddening face and he again released Elizabeth, who fell sprawling to the floor, as he charged the stacks himself.
From out of the stacks the tall, gangly hermit shot, hooting, then squawking as he collided into the onrushing Skunk. The unhurt though startled biker was stopped in his tracks, and was soon cursing when his massive fists swung at Dooley but connected only with empty air. Dooley ducked and bounced away nimbly, stumbling awkwardly towards another biker, his long thin arms cart wheeling in a blur.
From her spot on the floor Elizabeth watched in astonishment as Dooley bounced off the second biker and stumbled back towards a third biker. The second biker had been caught on the chin by a blazing Dooley whirly uppercut, but paused only a moment before angrily resuming his pursuit. Meanwhile Skunk stepped forward and swung a mighty blow at Dooley as the skinny hermit swept by him, but the blow was a moment late, and instead struck the second biker in the stomach.
As the stricken biker sank moaning to the ground Dooley bounced flailing fists off the face of the third biker, who stumbled back noisily against a stack of books, more surprised than hurt.
For a few wondrous seconds it seemed like Dooley could dodge and befuddle the bikers indefinitely, until two of them seized Dooley by each of his skinny arms and roughly hauled the squirming young man to face their leader.
"I been looking forward to this for a long time, nature boy!" growled Skunk, as he poised to strike the helpless Dooley. A moment later Elizabeth kicked him between his legs from behind, and he doubled over and cried out in pain.
The cursing biker spun and again caught Elizabeth around her neck, and drew back his huge right fist to strike her. "Another big mistake, bitch!" he growled, in a deep, threatening voice.
The blow never came. Around Skunk’s right wrist impossibly large fingers and thumb appeared, while an immense red arm locked firmly under Skunk’s chin. "Bigger mistake Skunk!" said an even deeper voice.
Skunk tightened his choking grip on Elizabeth's poor neck instead of releasing her. More pain shot through her, but by now she instinctively had his choking thumb in her own two hands, and as she twisted it back with all her strength, she kicked her right foot out and up hard, and saw and felt it connect solidly with Skunk’s anatomy again exactly as she had intended.
Released again, she fell awkwardly to the floor as the moaning, cursing Skunk, defying gravity, was lifted up off the floor and away from her, while his flailing feet and free arm struck out harmlessly at air and bookshelves. Elizabeth sat up and got her first clear look at her new rescuer, as he literally carried Skunk out of the stacks and into the open.
It was the most enormous man she had ever seen in her life! Long graying hair held by a faded red bandanna framed a stern, weather worn, age chiseled face with startling, piercing blue eyes. He wore loose fitting hand-spun gray wool shirt and trousers that covered him from head to moccasin-clad toes, except for his huge bare arms. It was none other than Great Two Bears from the Reservation!
At the same time, there was a blur of activity taking place behind Two Bears and Skunk as yet another new rescuer, aided by Dooley, was taking on Skunk's gang. The four motorcycle men had muscular bulk and numbers, but the tall young stranger that wore glasses had speed and power, and diversions offered by wildly flailing, indomitable Dooley Simple.
Elizabeth could hardly believe her eyes. The stranger effortlessly blocked a dozen wicked biker blows and delivered lightning fast punches in return that incapacitated one after another of the bikers. In seconds all four bikers were sprawling on the floor around the pair, moaning in pain as they nursed bruised jaws and stomachs, and struggled to regain their senses.
Meanwhile Skunk struggled mightily to free himself from Two Bears. “Hold still Skunk,” the big Indian ordered, “or I’ll have to break your arm, and you know how I hate violence.” The Indian had Skunk’s right arm pinned behind him, and was using it and the chokehold to suspend his smaller squirming adversary entirely off the ground. The strength required had to be fantastic, Elizabeth realized.
Skunk’
s response was to elbow the big Indian repeatedly with his now free left-arm, while spewing obscenities and flailing away at the air in frustration with his feet.
In response Two Bears heaved Skunk higher with a jerk that broke the biker’s arm with an audible snap, then released him so that he fell roughly onto the hard, tile-clad, concrete floor. Even as Skunk roared in pain and rage, in one smooth motion he rolled, bounded up, and pulled a big switchblade knife from his belt with his good left arm, while his broken right arm hung limply. “You die now, Chief!” he screamed, as he faced the gigantic Indian.
Two Bears and hadn’t been idle either. He had circled around Skunk to place himself between Elizabeth and her attacker, and now he quickly drew from its scabbard a hunting knife with a foot-long blade that dwarfed that of Skunk’s knife. “Not this day, I think,” he said calmly.
Skunk looked about for his men for help, but they were all lying groggily at the feet of Dooley, who was watching them closely. Worse, the dangerous stranger that had so easily decked all of his men was slowly making his way towards him.
Skunk charged at Two Bears screaming, but the Indian’s left foot shot up and into Skunk’s stomach with blinding speed, knocking the motor cycle man back and down on his butt, where he sat moaning and gasping for breath for a few seconds before rising again with the knife, unsteady but apparently game to attack again.
Jake Barns entered the room with pistol already in hand. The Sheriff sized up the situation quickly, and ignoring Skunk, smiled and took careful aim at Two Bears!
“Hold it Sheriff!” the stranger cried out, as he moved to stand in front of Two Bears. “This is the good guy. That other guy is the bad guy.” He pointed at Skunk. Seeming to notice the stranger for the first time, the lawman’s smile disappeared, but his gun was still pointed at Two Bears and the stranger.
“That whore bitch and her fucking Indian friend attacked me, Jake,” said Skunk, surprising everyone with his colorful command of language. “The big red bastard broke my arm and pulled that knife on me.” He casually folded his switch blade and put it inside a pocket, as his mocking grin returned.
“That so?” said Barns, nodding. “That sounds like armed assault to me. You pressing charges, Skunk?”
“That’s bullshit sheriff,” Elizabeth stated. "I'll be the one pressing charges. Janet too. And by the way, Skunk, if that’s the name of this scum bag, pulled his knife out first.”
The Sheriff grinned. "I didn't see it that way; so it's my word against yours."
"And mine," said the stranger sternly. "End of story.”
“I’ll be judge of that, stranger,” admonished the Sheriff. "This Indian is a known trouble maker. I saw him and her and you beating up on poor Skunk myself when I came in, and then I saw the savage pull a knife on poor unarmed Skunk to finish him off."
"That's a lie," said Elizabeth angrily, as she stepped towards the lawman.
Two Bears lowered a huge hand to restrain her by the shoulder while the stranger spoke again in a calm voice. "Now it seems to me that you each may have a complaint here Miss, you and Mr. Skunk both, one’s word against the other’s.”
“An Indian’s word ain’t worth shit in this town," explained the Sheriff. "Or Dooley's or a stranger's either. And anyway, since I seen it Skunk's way myself, it's going to be my word and Skunk's against mostly yours, Miss Winters."
"And mine, Sheriff," said Janet, still tied to the chair, surprising everyone including herself. "I saw it Miss Winter's way, and I'm willing to testify to that. And to the fact that Skunk and his men tied me up and held me against my will. That’s kidnapping!"
Barns lowered his gun and stood thinking silently, clearly outnumbered and again uncertain.
"Ain't you going to at least arrest that red bastard, Jake?" asked Skunk. "He broke my damn arm! That wasn't part of our plan!"
"Shut up, you idiot!" hissed Barns.
"So then, you all plan on pressing charges, do you?" asked the stranger. "The two young ladies against Mr. Skunk, and Mr. Skunk against the Indian? Sounds very awkward. Lots of publicity of the wrong sort, perhaps. Maybe we should all just all calm down and forget the whole thing."
"Nobody charged with anything?" said Barns slowly, clearly considering it.
"Hey, I ain't forgetting nothing," said Skunk, vehemently.
The stranger turned to regard Skunk coolly. “I strongly advise that you do.” This time here was a steely edge to his statement.
“Unlikely,” replied Skunk, with a sneer.
"Me either," Elizabeth stated flatly. "But I'll drop my charges if Janet is alright and she agrees, and if Skunk drops his. What about it Janet? Are you alright?"
The librarian was still tied to her chair. "I'm not hurt, just scared and mad as hell. But I'll drop my charges if you'll drop yours, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth nodded, and the stranger returned his confident gaze the Sheriff. "Will Skunk drop his charges?" He stared steadily into Barns' eyes, ignoring Skunk completely.
The Sheriff nodded slowly, holstering his gun as he coldly met the stranger's steely-eyed stare. "Seems to me there's just been a little private misunderstanding here. Good thing I happened by, or it could have gotten out of hand. Miss Winters, if you stay in the area and hang out with troublemakers like this Indian, something more serious is still bound to happen to you. Do you understand me, Miss Winters?"
"I understand that I'll 'hang out' with anyone I want to, Sheriff."
"Your funeral," he replied, smiling wickedly. He turned to stare up at the big Indian. "You're a long damn way off the Reservation, Chief. I'd remedy that quick if I were you."
"Sounds like real good advice," the giant red man replied easily. "The Reservation library is better anyway. Less riff-raff."
The Sheriff snickered but turned to consider the stranger. "And you might just want to leave this county altogether. Do it now. You're poking into local trouble that's none of your damn business."
"Nope, I have personal business near here that I’ll be seeing to, at Goth Mountain."
Barn’s jaw dropped. "The hell you say! Hey, are you BIA or something?”
“Bureau of Indian Affairs? They’ve always kept out of Reservation business,” said the stranger.
“So what would your business be then?"
"Family business. I’m Johnny Goth."
"Johnny!" yelled Dooley, laughing and running to hug Johnny like a long lost brother. “I should-a knowed it.” Johnny smiled and hugged back.
"Shit," muttered the sheriff, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared darkly at Johnny. Then without another word he turned and walked out, pushing the still complaining Skunk ahead of him, along with the four other beat-up bikers, who were helping to hold each other up and stumble out.
Dooley hugged and hugged his long-lost boyhood friend Johnny until his thin arms ached. "I always knowed you'd be back! And you growed up big and into a fighter just like Dooley!" When he finally let go of Johnny his jaw dropped and he stared with puzzlement at Two Bears. Then the big silly Dooley grin reformed. "You heard me call for help in my head, didn't you, little furry friend? You and Johnny heard me!”
"We were passing through town and heard a ruckus," said Two Bears, smiling and nodding but not volunteering any details.
Elizabeth had just untied Janet, and upon hearing Two Bears described as little and furry and his help being obtained so strangely by Dooley she exchanged a very puzzled look with her friend Janet, who could only shrug. This was Dooley Simple talking, after all.
"You found Johnny," said Dooley, grinning at Two Bears and slapping him on the back. "I knew you'd find him! Two Bears will be glad to see both you guys." Dooley, finally realizing he was saying things that he shouldn't, clasped a hand over his mouth.
The big Indian smiled again and turned from Dooley in an attempt to dismiss his remarks. "Excuse me, Miss Winters, we all forget our manners. Johnny, this is Elizabeth Winters. She teaches school on our Reservation and is a true friend to the Tribe. Elizabe
th, this is of course Johnny Goth."
Elizabeth smiled up at Johnny. "My rescuer and my landlord." And a handsome one at that, she noted, and not a bit disheveled after beating up four brawny bikers and talking down an angry sheriff.
"Landlord?" asked Johnny, puzzled.
"I rent a room in your house."
"In my house?" Johnny knew he didn't own a house, or have an attractive young lady living in it. And indeed, this young lady was very attractive, even though a bit disheveled herself after her tussle with Skunk. To Johnny she seemed especially attractive for having the courage to face up to Skunk and the hostile sheriff.
"You're the Goth heir, right?" Elizabeth asked.
"Heir? What about Mort?"
Elizabeth looked up at Two Bears, her smile instantly gone. "I'm sorry. You didn't tell him?"
Great Two Bears shook his head sadly and sighed. The big man suddenly looked very tired. "No, I hadn't told him yet."
"Told me what?" asked Johnny.
"Your Uncle Mort has gone to another place," stated Two Bears.
"What?"
"He's gone."
"Mort left Goth Mountain?"
"He died a few days ago," explained Elizabeth. "I'm so very sorry."
Johnny staggered as realization hit him. Mort dead? After all these years of separation, Johnny had returned too late, missing his Uncle Mort by only a few days?
Two Bears rested his huge hands on Johnny's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Maybe it's not as bad as it sounds, Johnny."
"How could it be worse?"
"Maybe there’s still hope, like with your father, of bringing him back."
"You guys are spooking me out big time," said Janet.
Two Bears shook his gray-haired head. "There is much to talk about, Johnny, when you have returned home. But right now you should stay here in the library and talk with the ladies, while I go home with Dooley to rest. I am very tired. You should push on to Goth Mountain tonight without me, Johnny, while I rest. Did I mention that I'm feeling very tired?"
Indeed, Two Bears seemed to be wilting, his great shoulders drooping and his silver-haired head bowed. He mischievously smiled for a moment and winked at Johnny. As Johnny watched, Two Bear's face seemed to lengthen, and his ears thinned and pointed outwards from a face that began to grow hair.
Suddenly comprehending that his friend Ned was too exhausted to maintain his Two Bears form, and could at any moment morph back into a little goat-man or a Sasquatch in front of Elizabeth and Janet, Johnny positioned himself so that hopefully Two Bears could not be seen clearly by the two young ladies. "Miss Winters, could you tell me what happened to Mort? I haven’t been in contact with him for many years."
"Nobody seems sure what happened. Two days ago I found him dead in his bed. Officially it was natural causes.”
"Was he sick?"
"Not that I know of. He seemed very active and healthy to me only a few days earlier." She shifted to the left and right to see around Johnny and watch Dooley and Two Bears go out the library door. Meanwhile Johnny also shifted about, almost as though he was trying to block her view of the exiting pair on purpose.
Despite Johnny’s counter-measures, she managed to glimpse the huge Indian leaning heavily on skinny Dooley. The towering Shaman seemed then to actually become shorter and to shrink in size, becoming much shorter than Dooley. Or maybe he was just ducking very low as he went through the door; that had to be what it was. "Is Two Bears alright?" she asked.
"Just tired; he'll be fine with Dooley,” Johnny explained. “Mort was a very old man. I suppose that natural causes would be the obvious explanation."
"That's the official explanation, anyway. What did Two Bears mean, about bringing Mort back?"
"I don't know. Talk to his spirit, maybe. Tribal Shaman stuff."
"I’m sorry! Your father is deceased then also?"
"My Mom thinks so. Mort and the Tribe weren't so sure, when it happened. He just seemed to disappear on Goth Mountain. But if he were alive he would have returned by now, I'm sure. That's what Mom believes. Anyway, that was a long time ago."
“Didn’t you have glasses on when you got here?”
Johnny felt his face and was surprised to find that his glasses were indeed missing. The bikers hadn’t laid a hand on him; his glasses probably flew off his face while he was dodging their attempts. In the heat of the moment, his vision had corrected itself without him even noticing that he had a problem. “Yes, but I can make-do without them.”
Janet, who had been inspecting the damage done to her library, appeared with Johnny’s badly broken glasses in her hand. The lenses were quite thick, Elizabeth noted.
“Thanks,” said Johnny, smiling as he placed the twisted and shattered pieces into a shirt pocket.
"Where do you live, Mr. Goth?” asked Elizabeth. “Where did you drive in from just now?"
"The Los Angeles area. We’ve been on the road since this morning."
"Two Bears couldn't have found you there, I saw him on the Reservation earlier this morning."
"He found me by phone. We just met up here in town a few minutes ago."
"I see," said Elizabeth. She had never heard of the big Shaman using a phone or leaving the Reservation. As far as she knew, Chief George had the only phone on the Reservation. Tribal police used hand-held radios but no phones. No one on the Reservation had a cell phone except her, and her old cell phone was simply a phone.
"A minute ago Dooley was talking as if Two Bears wasn't Two Bears," noted Janet.
"I haven't seen Dooley in years, but I guess he still talks strange sometimes," explained Johnny.
Elizabeth nodded. Dooley was a strange one all right, and sometimes hard to understand, but there was always some sort of deep truth behind whatever he said. She was beginning to understand that talking to Johnny was a lot like talking to someone of the Tribe; all his explanations were a bit vague and curved away from being straight answers. "I suppose so. It's just that while teaching on the Reservation, I heard strange stories, especially about Goth Mountain, Two Bears, and your Uncle Mort."
Johnny's smile returned. "When I was a kid I loved to hear their stories, especially stories about Two Bears. I'm really looking forward to returning to the Mountain."
"Me too,” agreed Elizabeth. “It has been a very long day. I should drive Janet home and get myself to my apartment here in town. With your return, I don't suppose I'm needed at the cabin anymore."
"You shouldn't stay in town at all, Elizabeth," said Janet.
"I agree," said Johnny. "I don't think you should stay in town with Skunk and that sheriff possibly still gunning for you. Perhaps you should continue staying at the Goth cabin, until this business is all straightened out."
"OK, you talked me into it," agreed Elizabeth. Staying in the same house with Johnny Goth had a certain appeal, regardless of circumstances.
"Is that your truck outside?"
"It's Chief George's truck, but I'm using it."
"Wow, George Running Buck is Chief now? He was a close friend of my Dad. Did the truck have four flat tires when you drove it here?"
"Four flat tires? I don't think so."
"It does now, courtesy of our biker friends, I imagine. Don't you worry about it though; the Tribe can take care of it tomorrow. Why don't I drive both you and Janet home now in my car, Miss Winters?"
“Can you see well enough to drive?”
The tall young man grinned. “No problem at all.”
"Alright then, but only if you call me Elizabeth."
"Gladly Elizabeth, if you call me Johnny."
There was a long pause, as Johnny and Elizabeth stared deeply into each other's eyes.
"OK, let’s go then," said Janet, breaking the spell. "I appreciate the ride home, but it looks like the Fensters are actually after you two, not me."
"The Fensters? Say, is Frank Fenster that Skunk guy's real name?" asked Johnny. "Seems to me I remember a big nasty Frank Fenster teenager when I was
a kid. He hung out with Small Bear, the nephew of Two Bears."
"Small Bear is Tribe Police Chief now," said Elizabeth. "Is Skunk related to Bill Fenster?"
"Yup," added Janet. "I forgot that you're a newcomer here, Elizabeth. Frank Fenster, better known lately as Skunk, is old Bill Fenster's nephew. That’s why that biker bastard can get away with just about anything in this town."
Elizabeth whistled. She had just had the honor of bloodying the lip and kicking the balls of the nephew of the richest man in town.
Meanwhile, Johnny was wondering what other surprises awaited him. Mort was dead? George was Tribe Chief? Small Bear was the Tribe Police Chief? There had obviously been a lot of changes that he would need to catch up on.
"I don't think you need fear retribution tonight, Elizabeth," said Janet. "Skunk and Barns will go whining back to their boss for their next instructions."
"Then you agree this thing isn't over?" asked Johnny.
"No it’s not. This is only the beginning for you two, I fear," said Janet. "The Fensters won't stop until they have the Goth place, that's the word around town."
Janet stopped talking and the trio stopped walking. They had just exited the library could see by the light of the streetlight and moon Johnny's old Tempo that was parked nearby. Inside it a cat could be heard howling in terror as it leapt furiously about inside, looking for an escape route. Beside the old Ford a tall bearded stranger dressed in black stood silently, smiling at them, and in particular at Johnny.
"Good evening," said the stranger, in a deep, even voice. "I was taking my evening walk and I heard a commotion. Is there trouble?"
"Not anymore," said Johnny, “and we aren’t looking for any.” For some reason he immediately felt uneasy about this stranger. The man was as tall as he was, and heavier by at least twenty pounds, but it wasn't just his size or sudden appearance in the night that set Johnny on edge. It seemed to Johnny that this man looked, felt, and even smelled evil. He had never encountered real evil before, but now somehow he knew what it was. There was a feel to this man that was very wrong.
The man grinned, flashing teeth that may have been a little too large, white and pointed. Perhaps it was a trick of the street-lights, but his eyes seemed to glow red. "Trouble need not be sought to be found, young man. My name is Dark." He held out a gloved hand to Johnny.
"I'm Johnny Goth," replied Johnny as he reluctantly grasped the other man's hand. Then he gasped as waves of pain and nausea swept into him through his arm, which instantly seemed to be burning up. At the same time Dark's eyes, which were locked with his, definitely glowed bright red, and his toothy smile transformed into a menacing, beastly snarl. Johnny instinctively tried to draw back his hand, but it was caught fast in Dark's crushing, numbing grip.
In response Johnny quickly locked his own intense steely-eyed gaze with Dark’s blazing stare and willed life and strength back into his arm and body, until his own grip equaled that of Dark. For long moments the two men struggled, Johnny unsuccessfully pulling with all his strength and Dark similarly trying to dislodge Johnny but not budging him an inch. A grin slowly formed on Johnny’s face as Dark snarled with frustration. Dark was inhumanly strong, but so was Johnny Goth.
Suddenly a booming flash of light tore the hands apart and both men were pushed back a dozen paces by the impact. Johnny recovered nimbly and took a defensive stance in front of Elizabeth and Janet, poised like a kick-boxer.
Dark, staggered but still standing, and clearly surprised, stared for a moment at his still smoking arm and glove, and then laughed lustily. "Quite a handshake you have, young man. We'll need to get together again very soon, definitely. Right now I have other pressing business." Never taking his eyes off Johnny, He bowed towards Elizabeth and Janet. "Ladies," he said, in a mocking tone. Then he stepped backwards and to the side, seeming not so much to disappear into the darkness as to himself become a mere shadow that vanished into thin air.
Are you all right, Johnny?" asked Elizabeth, after a moment of astonished staring at where Dark had been.
"I'm fine, I think," said Johnny, flexing his arm and fingers. Feeling was just returning to them. He extended his senses and confirmed that the evil presence known as Dark was indeed rapidly leaving the area. "Who was that guy?"
"Never saw him before," said Janet, "and I try to keep tabs on all the local folk."
"What was that explosion?" asked Elizabeth.
"I'm not sure," said Johnny, but he put his hand inside his pants pocket and found that his father's watch was too hot to touch with his bare fingers. The heat of it against his thigh, through the cloth of his pants pocket, was just barely tolerable. The watch had protected him, he realized, by separating him and Dark. "I can tell you this much. That man is pure evil. We better get going before something else happens."
Janet lived very nearby and was home in minutes. Johnny next drove Elizabeth to her apartment, which was a half mile further. Johnny half expected to be again attacked by a motorcycle gang, the police, or Dark, but nothing materialized, which was just as well. Too much was already happening. Mort's death, the Fenster conflict, and now a mysterious evil stranger named Dark, had made an already momentous home-coming altogether too eventful. Most of all he felt the loss of Mort. Mort was very close to him when he was a boy, almost as close as his father.
Then there was Elizabeth. There was no denying that he felt attracted to her, but of course he was engaged to Angela, he reminded himself.
Johnny contemplated the day's events as he drove. Moocher, meanwhile, occupied Elizabeth. The frightened tomcat immediately took to her, and found warm refuge on her lap. Soon he was purring up a storm as Elizabeth stroked his long fur. Johnny was envious of the cat, and agreed totally with the animal's positive assessment of Elizabeth.
"I forgot to mention that I also have a cat, Johnny," said Elizabeth. "She's at my apartment here in town, and I had planned to bring her with me to Goth Mountain tonight. That could be a problem. Sometimes cats don't get along together at all."
"They'll be OK together, I think. Yours is female, I take it, and Moocher is male. That should count for a lot. Besides, there doesn't appear to be any choice. She's your family, right? Like Moocher is mine."
"Right. It's nice to meet someone who understands that."
"Ditto," agreed Johnny.
Elizabeth's head was spinning with many questions, including ones about Johnny Goth. "Where did you learn to fight like that?" she asked.
"Fight?"
"Those four huge bikers you just beat the crap out of. Remember them?"
"No big deal. I have some pretty fast reflexes, that's all."
"Did you take Kung Fu lessons? Are you a cop or a Green Beret or something?"
Johnny smiled. He couldn't reveal to her that some of his blows were actually invisible ones delivered psychically, and that he had pulled his punches to avoid serious damage to the bikers. "No, I'm mainly a process engineer, but I do like Jackie Chang movies."
"Me too, but I couldn't take on a biker gang without even breathing hard."
Johnny shrugged. In truth, he too was astonished by his performance. He had never been in a fight before.
Elizabeth was also going to ask him how he and Two Bears knew that something was happening at the library, but then they arrived at her apartment.
When they entered Johnny insisted that he precede Elizabeth by a few paces and search for intruders. He wasn't just looking for bad guys though, she soon suspected. His eyes were trying to take in everything he could of her little apartment.
She didn't mind, though she was concerned that he'd find unsightly skeletons in her closet before she even had a chance to know this strange and attractive man. She liked to take things slow and cautious in relationships. Then again they were strangers, she reminded herself, despite their recent experience together, and not on any sort of date. However, she sensed that somehow they were already in some sort of relationship; they just hadn't figured out exactly what it was yet.
"You painted this?" Johnny asked, as he studied one of her wall-hung landscape paintings closely.
She had been examining Johnny closely; and concluding again that he was indeed very handsome. He exuded grace, strength and self-assurance. She knew one thing from the moment she met Johnny Goth; there was plenty of physical attraction between them, at least on her side. So much so that it scared her, and she almost missed his painting question altogether. "It's my hobby. Especially since I started teaching, and have a little more money for art materials. I'm not very good at it though."
"No, they're wonderful. A nice compromise between expressionism and realism. Too many folks nowadays don’t have an eye for beauty and can't do a blasted thing with their hands." He walked through the rooms looking for intruders, but also obviously examining paintings, books, and knickknacks. His eyes sparkled, and he couldn’t help smiling frequently. He liked her things, and he was fascinated that he did. He couldn't comprehend Angela's stuff at all. "You like trees then?"
"I absolutely love trees. The trees are one of the best things about living in this part of the country. There's almost no old-growth forest left though; it's one of my greatest fears that my paintings will outlive the trees that they depict."
He nodded solemnly. "This is logging country though, Elizabeth."
A dire suspicion shot through her just then. Could Johnny be a logger? "I'm for letting logging companies raise and harvest their own logs, but dead-set against clear-cutting or any logging at all of the few remaining old-growth forests. Those are simply too valuable to destroy. Especially the big old trees that are centuries old. They should be protected in parks."
"Just so tourists can gawk at them?"
"If gawking can be done without destroying the forest I'm not opposed to it, if it's kept under control. We humans need the forests; it nurtures our souls to see trees. And stars and mountains and whales and lots of things, though I'm particularly partial to trees. But most of all, trees and lots of other things have a right to be here as much as we do, and have incredible value unto themselves, far beyond any monetary or aesthetic value that we humans can possibly presume to assign to them. They're as much a part of God's universe as we are."
She stopped when she realized that she was soap-boxing.
"Good speech," remarked Johnny, smiling. "I can see that we agree on a lot of things. Is this photo your school kids? Some of them are wearing white-man clothes! The Reservation has certainly changed since I last saw it. What is that thing they're standing around?"
Elizabeth studied the big photo on the wall that Johnny was pointing at. "Yes, those are my students on the Reservation, and they're standing around my car."
Johnny looked closer. Now that he studied it carefully, the outlines of a tiny Geo Metro were recognizable, though only barely. Bold squares, lines, dots, and circles in rich-earthy shades of red, yellow, orange and brown covered everything except the windows. Here and there small animal figures were painted also, including bears, eagles, panthers, and deer. Some of the figures were three dimensional, sculptured in wood or clay, painted and then somehow attached to the car. "It's been all done up, Indian art style!"
"Right. My class sculpted and painted it. Can you read the license plate above the real license plate?"
"It says 'Artistic License' on it! Hey, I've heard of them, aren't they a band of rogue West Coast artists?"
"Right. The kids and I are members. Your friend Dooley showed up with the license and certificates of membership for all of us about a week after the car was done."
"Wow! Your car is a genuine work of art! What a fantastic idea!"
Elizabeth smiled. Most people were horrified at the very thought of a car being painted over by kids. "Not my idea. The kids did it while I wasn't looking. Your friend Dooley had something to do with it, I suspect."
"They must all really like you a lot, to do that to your car. But on to business. Where's your cat?"
The cat was shy of strangers, and Johnny was no exception. Though Johnny pretended not to know where the cat was, he could sense exactly where the animal had fled from the first moment he entered the apartment. It took Elizabeth several minutes to find Fluffy under her bed. He continued to examine the apartment while Elizabeth was in her bedroom, calming Fluffy and then packing a suitcase. "No TV?" he asked, surprised.
"I have a small one in the spare bedroom. Don't use it much, but there are some great nature shows on sometimes."
"Right. I'm partial to PBS myself," said Johnny. "No home computer either?"
"Not that you’d notice. I’ve got an old laptop in a drawer someplace that I hardly ever use. I'm sort of an old fashioned girl, I guess."
"Computers and technology are vastly overrated anyway," he agreed. "I can say that authoritatively because I have a computer and am somewhat of a technologist." In the kitchen he had noticed vegetables lying around: squash and beans, melons and tomatoes. "You prepare a lot of your own food?"
"Tastes better, and I enjoy doing it. Mostly vegetables; I avoid red meat. Do you like plants? I hear that Mort had a garden, but I haven't seen it yet."
Johnny smiled broadly. "Yes, I love plants, particularly tasty ones. We can see Mort's garden tomorrow; I'm sure it will be very impressive."
"Sounds good," she said, as she stepped into the living room carrying a huge suitcase with one hand and a cat-carrier and a big plastic bag full of odds and ends with the other. Without the truck, this would have to do for now. "We're ready to go," she announced. "I’m out of hands; could you carry the cat litter and box?" she nodded towards the litter box she had just emptied out, and a big bag of fresh litter.
"I'll bring the box, but that's the same brand of litter my cat Moocher uses, and I have at least fifty pounds of it in my trunk already. Can I carry something else for you?" He was amazed at how much she was carrying.
"Nope; I have to carry all of these at once or I'll be off-balance and fall over sideways. You can get the door though."
The phone rang. It had to be Aunt Heady, Elizabeth knew; she often called after the rates dropped. She was well cared for nowadays with a live-in friend and companion, but Elizabeth frequently spoke with her on the phone and visited her almost every weekend. She put down the suitcase and cat carrier and went back into the bedroom, leaving Johnny standing near the door with the empty litter box.
What should she tell her Aunt, she wondered? She didn't want to worry her, so even before she picked up the receiver she had decided that she'd skip the library episode. What should she say about meeting Johnny Goth and living at his house though?
"Miss Winters?" inquired a totally strange male voice. "This is Bill Fenster. I want to apologize for the little misunderstanding tonight."
It took her a moment to reply, for her anger to overcome shock and sudden fear. Janet was right; this whole business with Fenster wasn't over at all. "I was attacked by your nephew. That's more than a ‘little’ misunderstanding."
"It was simply a mistake; the boy is sorry. He gets a bit carried away sometimes, that's all. I'm a businessman Miss Winters, and on his own initiative Frank was merely trying to look after my interests. The lad actually has a heart of gold. If we can just come to an understanding, there will be no need for any more nasty situations. On the contrary, I can be quite generous to my friends. Very generous indeed." The words themselves were almost kind, but the under-tone was condescending and mocking, and the mind behind it cold, calculating and cruel.
"I already have an honest job and enough money, and plenty of friends."
"Of course. But maybe you would like a new car or a vacation? Purely as a result of honest work of course, nothing illegal. I fear that you may have gotten the wrong impression of me; I'm just an honest businessman out to make an honest living."
Honest businessman? She doubted it. Just the sound of this man's voice made her skin crawl. She had a habit of matching up animals with people that she met, and Bill Fenster was a weasel at best. "I still don't thin
k I'd be interested; not after what happened tonight."
"You don't have to decide now. Just keep it in mind, that's all I ask for now," said the weasel.
"Why do you want the Goth place anyway? I hear that you're rich already." She asked the question for Johnny's benefit as much as hers; she had spoken loudly so that he was sure to hear the question and surmise whom she was speaking to. In response Johnny came to the bedroom door, now alert and attentive to the conversation Elizabeth was having. She felt reassured, knowing he was there.
"True, true; I confess to being successful, and I'm damn proud of it," continued Fenster. "But the Goths are a mystery, Miss Winters. Do you like mysteries? I sometimes do, but not here on my home turf. Here I want to know what's going on. I don't like surprises, you see."
"You're a control freak," she stated.
"Surely, and an opportunist. It may be that beyond all that lumber, the Goths, the Indians, and their mountain won't turn out to be of much interest to me after all, I simply don't know yet."
"What don't you know, Mr. Fenster?"
"What the Goths have been hiding all these years, besides their precious trees. Become close friends with Johnny and the Indians, Miss Winters. There are things that only the Goths and the Shaman know that I want to know. Find out what they're hiding besides trees, and help me get the Goth place, and I'll make you very rich. It's that simple."
"What if I don't care about being rich?"
He laughed. "Very unlikely. However, if you're really that rare sort of handicapped person, there might be something else that I can interest you in."
"Very unlikely."
"If you like Goth and his Indian friends, you might just want to save them."
"Save them from what? From you?"
"From themselves, ultimately. From their own stubbornness. Nice folks finish last, pure and simple. I'll get their land if I want it, one way or the other; or if it's not me, someone else like me will."
"So now you want me to save them? How?"
"You might be their only chance. Either convince me that what they have is worthless to me, or convince them that it's not worth their fighting me for it. Maybe if you get really friendly with Johnny, and let him know you'd like a big diamond necklace or something, he might want to sell. After all, he's been away from here for many years. Why should he care about a mountain? What do you think? Can he and you be bought off, if the price is right?"
"No. And I won't be your spy or agent, Mr. Fenster. Forget it."
"Like I said before, you don't have to decide now. Just keep it in mind; though also keep in mind that my generous offer can be withdrawn if the situation warrants it. In the meantime I'll keep Frank and the others out of your way, as a sign of good faith."
"Out of Johnny's way too?"
"Perhaps even out of his way for a very short time, while you two become better acquainted. You're an attractive young lady, Frank tells me. Maybe that will come in handy with Johnny. Deal?"
"What about Dark? Is he in this with you? Frank couldn’t cut it so you brought in a freak?"
There was a pause. "Mr. Dark happens to be a business acquaintance of mine. A very dangerous one. But I might be able to influence him as well. What do you say?"
"No deals, no promises. End of discussion."
Fenster laughed. Not a cheerful, tension breaking laugh of hopeless resignation that acknowledged and rejoiced in some folly that had befallen him as reflects uncertainties inherent in the human condition and other universal realities; he was simply amused with her response, given that he ultimately had total control over the situation. One way or another, he would have domination over her, Johnny Goth, the whole damn universe. His universe.
How many people had this bastard ruined, Elizabeth wondered? She knew that it was not just a matter of money for Fenster; even more, it was a matter of power over other people, and of playing a high-stakes game to get more and more of it. Fenster was obviously enjoying himself.
What chance did innocents like her have? Resistance was futile, that's what he was ultimately telling her; and he got his kicks knowing that she knew that he knew it, and that there was ultimately nothing that she or anyone else could do to stop him. Fenster would get the Goth trees and whatever else the Goths had, and enjoy messing with people like her as he did it.
"Let's end this for now, Miss Winters,” Fenster said coldly, all pretense of friendliness completely gone. “I'll be in touch. I think you’ll change your mind when you see just how serious things can get. Just don’t wait too long or there’ll be nothing left to save. No-thing and no-one." He hung up.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath, shivering and feeling vulnerable as she sat on her bed. She had been more violated by old-man Fenster's phone call than she had been by his nephew in the library. The older Fenster hadn't even afforded her a good kicking opportunity.
"Are you all right?” Johnny asked. He stood in the bedroom doorway watching her. “That was old-man Fenster, wasn't it? Did he threaten you?"
"I'd say so. Me, you, and anyone else that gets in his way. He wanted to pay me to ensnare you with my womanly wiles."
Johnny laughed. "Sounds like a total waste of money. You're bound to ensnare men regardless."
"I am?" she asked, not quite sure at first if she had been insulted or complemented, but his laughter was infectious and she couldn't help returning his smile.
"I don't see how it could possibly be helped,” added Johnny. “Ready to go?" He offered her a hand to help her up off the bed and she took it.
It was the first time they had touched, they both instantly realized, and it was as if the Earth suddenly shifted in its orbit perceptively, shaking it and them to their cores. She marveled at the cool, sure, gentle strength of his large hand, and he marveled at the warm, soft, smooth vibrancy of hers, and at how she could be so strong while also at the same time be so small, delicate and exquisite.
After she stood, they somehow still held hands, and they stood closely together while she looked up into his clear gray eyes and he in turn searched her blue ones, silently asking each other questions as old as time.
"Meeeooow," complained Fluffy loudly from his carrier. Hearts beat again, though more strongly and rapidly, and some level of objective thought returned. They were strangers. Eyes turned away shyly.
"Sure, let’s go," she managed to say somehow without her voice sounding too squeaky, pulling away from him and retrieving the things she had been carrying before the phone call.
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Secrets of Goth Mountain Page 10