The Poe Consequence

by Keith Steinbaum

  The sudden sound of an unexpected voice startled them.

  “One of his eyes resembled that of a vulture. A pale blue eye, with a film over it.”

  Kevin and Veronica swung around the instant they heard Seth’s voice. The expression on his face appeared serene as he stood in his pajamas, looking at the two of them.

  “That’s another line from ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’,” he explained. “I think my dad’s getting his revenge.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  They went into the kitchen to drink hot chocolate and talk. Seth told them he had overheard everything, including the news of the frozen hearts.

  “You’re right about Edgar Allan Poe and the heart attacks, Uncle Kevin. My dad’s getting’ back at those guys.”

  “I admit there’s no answers at this point,” Kevin said, “but I’m not ready to believe in ghosts yet, Seth.”

  “But nobody knows anything for sure, right?”

  “Your idea’s a pretty hard thing to believe,” Veronica told him.

  “Well, I do!”

  “If that’s truly what you think,” Kevin said, “I can’t stop you. But when the police finally catch this guy, maybe you’ll think twice about jumping to conclusions.”

  Seth lowered his head and rubbed his hands across his eyes before looking up. Teardrops seeped over his lower lids as he spoke. “I was with my dad when he died,” he said, his voice cracking. “I held his head in my arms. He could barely talk but he really wanted me to hear what he had to say. ‘I promised your mom I’d look after you. And protect you. I promise you I will. Always’”. Seth shot a quick glance toward Kevin and Veronica before looking down again. “That’s what he told me and I believed him, okay? And I still do.”

  Kevin stared in silence for several moments. “There was a time I was so caught up in my own guilty feelings that I’d only think of your father when I looked at you,” he said. “I couldn’t deal with the loss. Now I see you for yourself. You’re quite a kid.”

  Seth blinked several times as he stared back at Kevin. “You’re my dad’s twin brother, Uncle Kevin. What do you think I see when I look at you?”

  Kevin leaned back against the sink, unnerved that he’d overlooked such an obvious fact. “I can’t help the way I look, Seth, but I’ll try my best to do anything I can for you. Just like your mom and dad always did.”

  “Then can I ask you a big favor?”

  “What is it?”

  “Will you take me to go see the psychic lady my dad saw?”

  “What?” he blurted. “Madame Sibilia? Absolutely not!”

  Seth furrowed his eyebrows in a pleading gesture. “Please, Uncle Kevin!” he said, dropping his shoulders sharply for emphasis. “You said yourself that she predicted my dad would be killed. And that he’d get revenge after he died, right? I want to know what happened to him. And where he is.”

  “It was just a big coincidence, Seth,” Veronica explained, her tone soft and warm. “You don’t really believe people can predict that kind of stuff, do you?

  “How can you be so sure?” Seth asked. “Uncle Kevin said that nobody has any answers yet and that anything is possible.”

  “I admit the whole thing is really strange,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean you should expect your uncle to get on an airplane and fly to New Orleans in search of this woman. Believe me, Seth, you’ll be setting yourself up for a big disappointment.”

  Veronica looked at Kevin, sitting quietly in his chair. “Isn’t that right, Kevin? Seth needs to get that silly idea out of his head. Madame Sibilia is just a phony who takes advantage of people.”

  “Even if she lived next door I wouldn’t want you talking with her,” Kevin said. “She told your father some terrible things. I can’t trust that she wouldn’t fill your head with thoughts that might scare you. Can you understand that?”

  “All I know is we’ll never find out now,” Seth said, looking rejected. “I don’t care what you say. I know it’s my dad.”

  Kevin rose to his feet, sipping from his cup as he looked at his nephew. He walked to the counter near the sink and turned back to face them, leaning against the edge. “I certainly can’t say I’m as sure as you, Seth. But I also can’t overlook the fact that Madame Sibilia is where this whole thing began. If there’s one thing I’ve learned as a reporter, it’s that questions are best answered by going to the source.”

  “What are you saying, Kevin?” Veronica asked, her eyes widening. “You’re not thinking…”

  “I need to ask Madame Sibilia why she said those things to Warren. It’s as if she had a roadmap to the future. I remain skeptical, but I want closure on this thing once and for all.”

  “All right!” Seth shouted.

  “More like, ‘all wrong,’” Veronica said, shaking her head. “Are you really going to go through with this?”

  “Maybe she guessed right on a few things,” Kevin replied, “but she’s a piece of the puzzle I can’t ignore, and the sooner I see her, the better. The problem is, it’s been months since Warren talked with her. Who knows if she’s still there?”

  “The phone number’s on her business card,” Seth said, bolting from his chair. “You left it in the other room. I’ll go get it.”

  Kevin and Veronica watched as Seth rushed from the kitchen. “Didn’t you tell Warren how ridiculous you thought he was for believing her?” Veronica asked.

  “You bet I did,” he exclaimed. “And I still think that…up to a point.” His eyes narrowed as he reflected on all that had happened. “I’ve been mulling this over for a while, Veronica, and I admit I’m curious about this woman. Once Seth brought up the idea of seeing her, I realized the time was right. He breathed in deeply before exhaling in a “maybe I’m crazy” resignation. “This trip is going to cost me a few dollars,” he said. “I can only hope that it’s money well spent.”

  “When will you go?”

  “That depends on a couple of things,” he told her. “I first have to know that she’s still in business and I can find her. I’ll also need to ask my mom if she can look after Seth while I’m gone.”

  “The phone number’s right here,” Seth said, returning and pointing to the spot on the card. “Call it, Uncle Kevin.”

  After a single dial tone, a recording answered with a slight French accented voice delivering the following message:

  “I am Madame Sibilia. You will find me in Pirate’s Alley, just beyond the high seas. Come tomorrow night.” The line went dead.

  Kevin hung up the phone. “Well, she’s still around,” he told them, “but the recording doesn’t allow a message to be left. It said she’ll be there tomorrow night in a place called, ‘Pirate’s Alley.’” Kevin looked at Seth. “Even if I get a ticket on such short notice, I’d still need your grandma to stay with you all day and overnight. That doesn’t give her much time. I think it’s best to try for next weekend.”

  “Veronica could stay with me,” Seth answered.

  Kevin looked at her and rolled his eyes. “Apparently, Seth likes to volunteer other people’s time without asking.”

  Veronica smiled at Seth. “I still think your uncle’s crazy for doing this, but it’s a date.”

  “Cool!” Seth shouted.

  “Thank you so much, Veronica,” Kevin said. “I owe you one. Admittedly, I’m anxious to get this over with. I’ll see if I can book the flight now.” Before going online for reservations, Kevin redialed the number on Madame Sibilia’s card, hoping to talk to someone. He heard the beginning of the same recording but decided to wait and see if he’d get a chance to leave a message this time.

  “I am Madame Sibilia. You will find me in Pirate’s Alley, just beyond the high seas. Come tomorrow night.” Before the line went dead, however, he heard something new that hadn’t been said before. “I have been waiting for you.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  As Kevin neared the St. Louis Cathedral, he knew that he’d reached the vicinity of Pirate’s Alley. A few minutes later he stared
into the entrance, recalling the words to Madame Sibilia’s recording. “You will find me in Pirate’s Alley, just beyond the high seas.” Kevin peered down the length of both sides, scanning the various shops. “She’s got to be around here somewhere,” he said to himself.

  Kevin didn’t feel the necessity to ask anyone if they knew Madame Sibilia. He wasn’t sure what made him so confident about locating her but he just had a feeling. As Kevin reached the other end, he saw a park with groups of people sitting at individual tables under the lights. Some of them appeared to be psychics. He stopped at each table to establish their names but didn’t find her.

  As he reentered the alley, he gazed in astonishment at another entranceway on the left that had gone unnoticed earlier. “How could I have missed that?” he asked himself. The almost nonexistent lighting didn’t help, but Kevin concluded he’d found the proper direction to take. An oddly shaped building approximately fifty yards ahead caught his attention and lured him closer. He soon realized the strange contour wasn’t the building itself, but the large slanted awning angling down below the roofline, causing much of the front entrance to be hidden, including the door. The place stood dark with no sound coming from inside. Kevin walked past the far side of the awning and headed toward the entrance. In white wooden letters, large enough to still be legible in the near darkness, the name above the door read, ‘The High Seas.’ “So this is what she meant,” he whispered. “I’m almost there.”

  Kevin veered around a corner, escorted by the silence of the isolated area. He hadn’t seen anybody for a while but didn’t care. He walked with a hop to his step now, sensing the finalization of his search. The scarce moonlight offered him just enough visibility to observe his surroundings. Huge pots with dense, green Ficus trees stood at attention like palace guards on the right and left sides. Slowing his pace, he discovered a semi-shielded passage hidden from view by one of the containers and trees. Venturing inside toward a patio entrance, unmistakable from where he stood, a neon sign in a second-floor window read, “Madame Sibilia—Psychic.”

  A large white door stood open, ushering Kevin past more potted Ficus and smaller containers with other types of greenery. Colorful squared stones throughout the walkway resembled a huge patchwork quilt. In the center of the courtyard, an old-fashioned gas lamp created a perfect completion to the unique, New Orleans style ambiance. He felt comforted by the flickering flame, offering him enough light to touch the cold, smooth ridges of the lamp’s rod-iron post. Keeping his eyes fixed on the sign in the window, as if drawn by a neon magnet, he climbed the steps and knocked on the door. He gazed out from the deck at the shadow-veiled garden and thought about Warren. So much sadness had ensued since his brother stood in this same spot, innocently hoping for some good news about a teaching job. As the door opened, Kevin prepared to introduce himself. That wouldn’t be necessary.

  “Hello, Mr. Palmer,” the pretty black woman said, her tone calm, yet direct. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  He stared at the woman in the maroon-colored gown and headdress. “How’d you know my name?” he asked. “And what do you mean, ‘you were expecting me’?”

  “I know you have questions,” she said. “I will attempt to answer them all for you. Please follow me.”

  She led Kevin from the small, candlelit entryway through a curtain into a larger room. Another assemblage of candles provided enough visibility to spotlight a bright green sofa with matching chairs. The dim illumination couldn’t camouflage their sharp contrast against the dark wooden walls. A square table on the right, covered by a long black cloth, stood about fifteen feet away. Two chairs faced each other on opposite sides. A blue-colored lava lamp provided an eerie glow from a small round stand in the far left corner, and on the right, he saw a doorway filled with beaded strings. The smell of incense seemed to add the final flourish to the mystery of the moment.

  “Come sit down,” she said, leading him to the table.

  After taking his seat, Kevin reached out to lift a portion of a gray handkerchief draped over something unseen. When he spotted the Tarot cards he held his hand there, his mind flashing back to the conversation he had with Warren about Madame Sibilia.

  “I know why you came here, Mr. Palmer,” she said. “The Tarot cards are not necessary and shall remain covered.”

  “Have we met before?” he asked. “You knew who I was as soon as you opened the door.”

  “Knowledge often extends beyond the point of origin,” she replied, her unwavering eyes holding his. “Your brother was a vessel through which I could see others. I became aware of your existence.”

  “I’m sorry, but I find that hard to believe.”

  “One’s view of reality is based on life experience,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “What must not be impossible to you, Mr. Palmer, is accepting that which you do not understand. If you wish to learn about your brother, and perhaps save him, you must accept a reality much different from what you know.”

  Kevin remained silent for several moments, unsure what to say or how to react.

  “All right,” he said, “let’s move on. Why did you tell Warren all those terrible things?”

  “Your brother’s fate was determined, yet he couldn’t have known of the perilous journey ahead. There was a reason he found his way to me. I was chosen to interpret his future.”

  “You were chosen?” Kevin asked. “You mean by someone you work for?”

  Madame Sibilia’s eyes narrowed. “No, Mr. Palmer. Your brother was summoned by a greater power.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t get what you mean.”

  “Some people need guidance,” she replied. “Your brother was drawn to me. Directed. He needed to understand certain things. As you will learn to understand certain things.”

  Kevin leaned forward, his eyes burrowing in on hers. “What I need to understand is why my nephew thinks his father is somehow still alive. Thanks to all that craziness you told Warren, his son is under that impression. It’s unhealthy and I don’t like it one bit.”

  Madame Sibilia waited in silence for several seconds before responding. “Your brother’s journey could not be altered, only explained. I am aware that you come here seeking confirmation of an untruth, but you will discover something else entirely. You will have your answer before you leave here.”

  “Fine,” he replied. “You said you were expecting me. Why?”

  “You believe you came here on your own volition, but I can tell you most assuredly, you did not. I was here for your brother. I am here for you.”

  “You’re making me uncomfortable with this kind of talk,” he said.

  “You may find certain answers difficult, Mr. Palmer, but your presence here is necessary.”

  “Well, you didn’t make it easy, that’s for sure,” he said. “I got your number from the business card Warren gave me, and all I kept getting was that recording about Pirate’s Alley and The High Seas. You should put your address on there.”

  “The card served as our union, a way to connect us in order to help your brother. Its purpose has been achieved.”

  “You’re right,” he said, “the purpose of the card has been achieved. Now I don’t want it anymore. It’s a sad reminder.” Kevin reached into his jacket pocket and brought out the card. Preparing to place it on the table, his near inattention turned into an open-mouthed stare of disbelief.

  “The card’s blank!” he exclaimed. He turned it over. “Both sides!”

  “The time has come to search outside your reality, Mr. Palmer. But you must first provide the information of your brother’s death, and what has happened to cause your nephew’s concern.”

  Kevin stared at the card in silence a while longer before dropping it on the table. “I didn’t expect to talk with you for long, but I’ve come all this way, so why not?”

  Kevin related the details of Warren’s murder. He then recounted their conversation from that morning when Warren discussed the Tarot card reading. He told her everything that he
remembered: Her prediction of Warren’s death. That he would somehow return seeking revenge. That he would have the ability to carry out certain thoughts from his life.

  “That’s when we talked about some Edgar Allan Poe stories,” he said. “Warren seemed to know a lot of his works inside and out. He fantasized about an afterlife where he could take some of Poe’s gruesome ideas and use them on gang members. Unfortunately, my nephew overheard me talking to my girlfriend about all of this. Now he thinks his father must be the reason for all the heart attacks that have killed the gang members since his murder. And why the autopsies have shown their hearts to have actually frozen. After all these months there still aren’t any answers. That’s why he’s harboring these silly thoughts.”

  Madame Sibilia closed her eyes, as if in deep thought. Nodding her head, she returned her gaze to Kevin. “You say that many have died since your brother’s murder. I believe you will find the heart attacks to account for half that total.”

  Kevin leaned back in his chair, his eyes opening wide. “How’d you know that?”

  “Your brother had a strong moral sense of right and wrong,” she said. “But his morality has been misdirected. He seeks revenge against those gang members, yes, but only as a reaction to their murderous behavior. Remnants of his moral compass still influence him. He would never initiate a killing, only respond to one committed by another.”

  Kevin shook his head. “My brother was a big believer in people like you, Madame Sibilia, but I’m not. Don’t expect to persuade me that Warren has anything to do with the murders.”

  “There is still hope your brother’s soul can be redeemed,” she said, ignoring his cynicism. “His final card was The Judgment card. That represented a new beginning. But the opportunity could end soon. That is the danger he faces.”