Stay Away

by Ike Hamill

  Jessie closed his eyes for a second and moved his lips as he practiced what he would say.

  The brakes rang as they pulled to a stop.

  “You ready?” Eric asked.

  Jessie put both bags in one hand so he could open the door.

  “We’ll be right here,” Eric said.

  Now that he was moving towards his goal, he wasn’t cold anymore. Jessie felt powerful energy running through himself. He had the upper hand. Before he rounded the corner, he put the bags behind his back. He wanted them to be a surprise. When he revealed them, he would be able to tell exactly how much the Trader really wanted them. That’s when he would make his decision.

  The man must have heard the footsteps, or sensed his presence somehow. Jessie slowed down as the man came around the side of the tree. Looking completely at ease, the Trader straightened his jacket, checked his watch, and then folded his hands together so they rested on his belly. He gave Jessie a tiny nod and a temporary smile.

  “I’m looking for a trade,” Jessie said.

  The man nodded again.

  “I’m sure you are. I was expecting your sister.”

  Jessie was put off balance. He broadened his feet, stabilizing himself and fixed his eyes on the man.

  “I’m here.”

  Blinking and smiling, the man said, “This, I see.”

  “This is what I have to trade,” Jessie said. When he brought his hand around, the goldfish was in front, darting and thumping in the pouch of water. The bag was plumped with air and tied in a knot at the top.

  The Trader’s eyes widened at the sight.

  The man opened his mouth to say something, but Jessie muted him by separating the two bags so the man could see the fingers. It was twice as many fingers as the Trader had asked for, and they were in gruesomely perfect condition. Jessie watched a ripple of barely contained excitement run through the Trader.

  If the Trader’s hands hadn’t been clamped together, Jessie imagined he would have reached for the bags. Jessie knew at that moment that he could ask for anything.

  The Trader’s voice was a whisper.

  “What do you require in exchange?”

  “I want my family back,” Jessie said.

  The Trader’s smile faded. When it came back, it seemed forced.

  “That’s a tall order,” the Trader said.

  “So you can’t do it, then?” Jessie said, shrugging. He took a step backwards. “I guess I’ll have to find another home for these fingers and Mr. Bubbles. I think I’ll see if I can get the fingers embalmed.”

  “Wait!” the Trader said. He couldn’t contain himself. He reached towards Jessie with one hand, fingers clenching at the air.

  Jessie stopped and squared himself with the man. The Trader regained his composure and straightened his vest and coat again. This time, he clasped his treacherous hands behind himself before he spoke again.

  “I can get anything,” the Trader said. “I will see to it that your brother is back at home before the end of the week.”

  Jessie studied the man’s face. The answer had come too quickly and too easily.

  “You promise?”

  “Yes, my lad. I give you my solemn assurance that it will be so.”

  The Trader’s eyes were locked on the bags.

  “Good,” Jessie said. “That will get you the fish.”

  The man’s expression soured from anticipation to confusion.

  Jessie held up his free hand. “The fingers are for my parents. One for each. Can you return them, or is that beyond your capability?”

  This time, the Trader seemed to really consider before he answered. Jessie was glad to see it. His father had always said that a successful negotiation ended with everyone in a little pain. It was nice to see the pain on the Trader’s face.

  “I know you were responsible,” Jessie said. “You control the Lady, don’t you? And she took my parents? I figure if you can take them, you can return them. Alive.”

  The Trader’s eyes shifted and then narrowed.

  Jessie lowered the two bags. With a shrug, he started to move away again.

  The Trader’s concession came with a sudden expulsion of air.

  “Yes. Yes, I will return them too.”

  “Alive.”

  “Yes, alive. Just give me your offering.”

  “You promise?” Jessie asked.

  “I promise you that it will be done.”

  Jessie raised the bags until they were at shoulder height. He didn’t need to consult his notebook to remember the signal. Jessie had practiced this move in his head a million times since they had come up with the plan. He would deliver the ransom and make the Trader commit to the promise, but it would all be a distraction at the same time.

  “As soon as you take these bags, our deal will be done, right?” Jessie asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And you will hold up your end of the bargain?”

  “Of course. I already promised,” the Trader said. He sounded almost frantic now that Jessie was almost within reach. Eric had been right—the man wouldn’t leave the tree even to get what he wanted.

  Jessie slowed, only letting the man’s fingers touch the bags when he heard the engine behind him.

  The Trader’s eyes never wavered from the prize. As soon as Jessie brought them within reach, the Trader grabbed the plastic and pulled with surprising strength. Jessie let go as he heard the car doors opening behind him. Others were closing in from the woods. A set of racing feet was pounding up from the River walk as well.

  The Trader snatched the bags with amazing speed and turned, transporting the fingers and the fish towards his tree. His smile broadened as he rushed to return to his hiding place, treasure in hand.

  Eddie pushed by Jessie on one side. Brett closed in from the other. Eric came from the left and Holdty and Fish from the woods.

  Lily was the last to reach them. She didn’t have to grab the Trader—the others all had a grip. They lifted him by his limbs. One of the Trader’s hands kept a grip on the bark until they pulled. When he screamed the sound vibrated inside Jessie’s head, rattling his teeth. It was a horrible screech, like twisting, rending metal.

  Eddie screamed something and Brett counted to three.

  They grunted and pulled.

  Lily’s hand closed around Jessie’s arm, guiding him away from the commotion as the group all pulled again.

  The Trader’s hat was knocked off. His pocket watch flew and clanged off the pavement.

  Eric was gripping the man’s jacket with both hands. The seams tore with the next effort. Eddie pulled off one of the man’s shoes and tossed it aside.

  With the next three-count, they tore him from the tree. The old man was puffing and sweating. Big red circles were painted on his cheeks.

  The group hauled him towards Officer Libby’s car and pushed him through the rear door with Eddie and Brett bracketing him. Eric rushed around and got in the passenger’s seat. Lily had gathered up everything that had fallen—the hat, the watch, and the shoe. She tossed them in behind him. As soon as everyone was loaded in, Officer Libby took off.

  Nicky pulled up in his place and the rest of them piled into the Gran Torino.

  Jessie got in back with Fish and Holdty. His sister was in front.

  The doors shut and Nicky streaked off after Office Libby.

  Jessie looked around with wide eyes, trying to catch his breath.

  Lily turned around in her seat.

  “We did it! You did it!” she said to him. “I saw you holding out. What did he tell you about Wendell?”

  Jessie blinked and shook his head.

  # # #

  “What do you mean?” she asked. The joy fell from her face.

  “I didn’t get him to tell me anything,” Jessie said.

  “Why not? I don’t understand. I saw you negotiate and then you handed the stuff over. Why did you hand it over if he didn’t tell you?”

  “I got him to promise,” Jessie said. “We’
ll know by the end of the week.”

  It wasn’t the truth, but it was as close as he planned to tell his sister. The last thing he wanted to do was raise her hopes.

  Fish was leaning forward over the seat.

  “The turn is there.”

  “I see it,” Nicky said.

  “What did he do with the stuff? The fingers?” Holdty asked.

  “I don’t know,” Jessie said. “I didn’t see.”

  “He must have tossed them,” Lily said. “I picked up everything that he dropped. The fish and fingers weren’t there.”

  “That fish is going to freeze,” Holdty said. “They can’t live long in those bags either way, but it’s way too cold out.”

  “You’re worried about a goldfish?” Nicky asked.

  They were driving too fast on the dirt road. The Gran Torino was swaying back and forth on its tired springs.

  “It’s just…” Holdty said. “I don’t know. It’s senseless is all.”

  “They throw those away by the dozen,” Lily said. “My friend used to work in a pet store. They skim the dead ones out every morning.”

  “Maybe that one would have lived a long time,” Holdty said.

  Nicky jerked the wheel to the right and Jessie heard the tires skid on the gravel beneath them.

  “Jeepers!” Nicky said, slamming on the brake. It was exactly the wrong thing to do. The back end spun out and they came halfway around, perpendicular to the road before they stopped. Holdty and Fish slid across the seat and slammed into Jessie.

  “You’re supposed to turn into the skid,” Holdty said, removing himself from the pile.

  “Who cares,” Lily said. “We’re here.”

  Jessie pulled the door handle and he and Fish spilled out. He saw the others getting out of Officer Libby’s car. The old man was thrashing and twisting in their grip. His feet barely touched the ground as they wrestled him towards the old barn. Officer Libby said that the building belonged to Jack Cornish, but it was clearly much older than that. Cornish was about the same age as Jessie’s father.

  Libby was leading the way. Jessie ran to help with the Trader. Brett and Eddie had his arms. Eric was holding his kicking feet. They didn’t need help carrying him, so Jessie ran ahead. The barn sat in the middle of a small clearing. The grass was tall—it was pretty clear that nobody used the barn for anything. Half the shingles were missing from the roof and the door to the upper loft was hanging on one hinge.

  When Jessie reached the doors, Frank Libby was pushing them open to give a big opening for the prisoner.

  “Here,” Frank Libby said. He tossed two sets of handcuffs to Jessie. “Try to get those on him. We’ll secure him to those bars.”

  Jessie went to one of the Trader’s arms. Brett was holding him under the armpit and around the forearm, keeping the Trader’s arm pinned. The fingers were clawing and stretching, trying to find something to grab. Jessie kept away from those, pushing the Trader’s shirt up a little to get the handcuff around the wrist. His skin was searing hot. After clicking the manacle closed, Jessie shook his hand in the air until it stopped smarting. With the other handcuff, he was more careful not to touch skin.

  Frank Libby waved them over. There was still a door on one of the old stalls. The upper half was iron bars. While Brett and Eddie pinned the Trader to the door, Officer Libby clipped the handcuffs to the bars. The old man pulled and clanged for a few seconds and then gave up fighting. His face was red from exertion and his chest heaved as he panted. They stood in a rough semicircle around the man. His eyes shot daggers at each of them.

  Frank Libby stepped forward.

  “What’s your game?” Frank Libby asked.

  The man’s eyes eventually landed on him.

  “I’ve already traded with you.”

  Frank nodded. His foot came up fast, not giving the old man any time to react. His foot hit the Trader’s crotch hard enough to boost him up off the ground and make the handcuffs rattle as he came back down. Hunched over for a moment, the Trader looked like he was having trouble drawing a breath, but then he straightened back up with defiant eyes.

  “That was for Jim Saunders,” Officer Libby said.

  He produced the knife from under his jacket. It caught the stray light that was shining through the gaps of the barn’s siding. Everyone held their breath, hypnotized by the gleam.

  The Trader was smiling as Officer Libby drew close to him.

  Frank Libby whispered, but they all heard the words. “This is for my sister.”

  Lily’s hand shot out. She was several paces away, but her hand reached, like there was some way she might stop him.

  Frank Libby drove the knife into the trader. It parted the shiny, worn out black jacket, the vest, and the shirt. It pierced through skin, belly fat, and muscle. The Trader’s smile disappeared for a moment and then his lips parted. He showed them his teeth in a wide open smile and snaked his head forward, trying to bite at Officer Libby.

  Frank Libby yelped and jerked his hand back. The knife hung from the Trader’s belly for a moment and then fell to the floor of the barn.

  Jessie’s wide eyes didn’t blink as he looked at the slit in the Trader’s jacket. His mouth hung open as he watched the shifting fabric and skin. He could see the layers of cloth and then the layers of skin and flesh. No blood spilled from the wound. It was a clean cut, framed in a shaft of sunlight. All Jessie could imagine was that the flesh was so hot that it had instantly cauterized the blood vessels. That idea was reinforced by Officer Libby, who was shaking and flexing his hand.

  “Burned me,” Frank Libby said, stepping back.

  A thin line of smoke rose from where the knife had fallen into the straw.

  “You didn’t expect him to be human, did you?” Eddie asked. He slipped forward carefully, keeping his distance from the Trader as he kicked the knife away and then stomped out the straw before it could catch on fire.

  Lily moved towards Frank Libby and took control of his burned hand. She examined it as she chided him. “Frank, we were supposed to ask him about Wendell first. You jumped the gun. Your hand is fine, it’s just singed.”

  “What is he?” Eric asked. “A demon? Why doesn’t he bleed?”

  “Maybe Satan himself,” Brett said.

  “Bullshit,” Nicky said. “If he is the Devil, would he let himself be restrained by us? Would handcuffs hold him?”

  Brett considered this and then shook his head.

  Eric moved a little closer, crouching down to look at the knife wound.

  “He has flesh, but no blood,” Eric said.

  “He’s a tree,” Holdty said, moving forward and pointing. “Right? He’s a tree. He might look like a person, but… You don’t cut down a tree with a knife. You use an axe. Or, better yet, you burn it.”

  “Yeah,” Fish said. “Burn him.”

  Jessie moved with his friends as they inched forward. They were strongest as a group. Together, the three of them accomplished more than they would alone. Jessie intended to be a part of whatever his friends decided to do.

  “Wait!” Lily said. “Just wait.” She pushed Eric out of the way and got between Jessie’s friends and the Trader. She put her hands up to command their attention. “Before anyone does anything, we’re going to get some answers.”

  LILY

  LILY SCANNED THE GROUP, making sure that their eyes were on her. After Frank Libby had attacked the man, they had come dangerously close to turning into a mob. There weren’t that many of them, but she had felt the will of the group beginning to overtake the logic of any one person. As a mob, they were capable of things that none of them alone would be willing to do. They all knew what Frank Libby intended. Before that carried them away, she wanted more information.

  “We don’t know precisely what he is, but I bet he does.”

  She settled her gaze on her brother until some of the rage cleared out of his eyes. Then, she turned.

  “What’s your name?”

  There was a subtle transf
ormation in his face. Even without the bloodless knife wound in his guts, she would have known that he wasn’t a person just based on that shift. There had been a feral animal inhabiting his features, but when she asked him a polite question his expression transformed and he was a simple old gentleman, confused by his surroundings.

  “My mother always called me Lueck,” he said.

  “Don’t talk to him, Lily,” Eric said. “He’ll only trick you.”

  She held up a hand to silence her cousin.

  “Lueck, where do you come from?”

  He tilted his head and glanced away, perhaps looking back at a pleasant memory. It occurred to her that if he chose this form for himself, he had chosen well. There was something innately trustworthy about his plump old features. With a beard and red suit, he could be Santa.

  “I’m from here,” he said. “I could tell you so much about the history of this place, but you and I have already negotiated a trade.”

  “We’re not trading today,” Lily said. “Today we’re answering questions. How old are you?”

  He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

  “Lueck,” she said, lowering her voice as she moved a little closer, “I’m not going to be able to keep them from hurting you if you don’t answer some questions.”

  “You and I have already…”

  “I know,” she said, cutting him off. “Brett, get over here.”

  She waved him forward. He stalked forward and Lily realized that she had made a mistake. Somehow, she had corked the group’s aggression momentarily, but with calling Brett forward it bubbled up once more. On the other side of the group, Jessie and his friends also began to inch forward. Frank Libby and Nicky tensed for action as well. They were all right on the edge of losing control.

  “Hold on!” Lily said, stopping Brett with a raised hand. She was a crossing guard, somehow controlling their massive power with only her hands.

  Gesturing with a finger, she granted Brett permission to come forward. This time, he seemed in control of himself. The others stayed put.

  Lily grabbed Brett by the shoulders and squared him to the Trader.