by Judi Calhoun
The numbers on the clock glowed in the inky blackness…5:30 a.m., too early to be staring at the ceiling. My mind was unnaturally peaceful, in spite of the knowledge that mom was still involved with that demon snake. I was not troubled, not in the least, not by anything.
Well, that was not completely true. I missed Jake. I shut my eyes. This chasm in my chest was an agonizing reminder of our breakup. That sinking dreadful feeling that maybe it was really over between us only increased my pain to the nth degree. I wasn’t at all sure if I did call him that he’d be willing to even talk to me. I had to know for sure, and there was only one way to find out.
I reached for my cell. There had been no calls or texts. I felt a little disappointed. Hmmm…not even a call from Gabby?
After disappointment, I had instant fear. What if Jake hangs up on me, as soon as I say hello. So calling was out of the question, but texting... hmm! He could hit delete just as easily. Then I’d never know if he got the message or just didn’t want to talk with me. What a dilemma!
So calling it is. My thumb slid over Jake’s smiling face in my contact list. Immediately I thought about hanging up.
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry,” I said fast. “I’m sorry about Joey and Gabby and what I said. I’m sorry for everything.”
A long moment of silence and my heart did a nosedive. Say something Jake, anything...yell at me but do not hang up!
“I can’t believe you called,” said Jake. “No. I’m sorry. I was a jerk. Forgive me.”
“I…of course,” I said, surprised by his apologizing. “Jake you didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”
“Sure I did,” he said. “I hurt you. I hope I never do that again.”
Just like that, the pain in my chest was gone, yet I couldn’t talk. Tears started falling.
“See now,” he said. “I’ve caused you more pain. You’re crying.
“I am just happy…relieved,” I said. “I miss you.”
“You have no idea,” said Jake. “I thought I was losing my mind, especially when Gabby told me you were sick. Are you okay now? You sound okay.”
“Much better,” I said, wiping my eyes on my sheet. “I really crashed and burned. Ariel came, you know. It was good to see him, not so much under the circumstances, you know what I mean.”
“Things must have been really bad for him to show up,” said Jake.
“I have fire.”
“You have fire. Uh, sure…right, not very funny, Shonna.”
“I’m serious, Jake. I didn’t know it was even possible. I think maybe Yesher feels I really need it, because of Ian…that’s all I can figure.”
“I am so jealous!” said Jake. “Most Slayers have to wait their whole lives for that kind of killing power.”
Jake was right. Nobody my age had fire, nobody that I knew of anyway. We had all learned the history at the beginning of our training. Ancient Elders have existed for centuries, loyal, perfected in faith, heavy-duty demon killing machines. Unlike most senior citizens that retire to warmer climates, like Florida, for an easier life, the Ancients gather on a frigid mountaintop in Colorado, hardening themselves in preparation for the end of days, the final battle between good and evil. The powers given them are equal to no others anywhere, simply because Triune, pneumatic fire will eliminate the existence of wickedness in this earthly realm. Only those of a truly humble spirit can ever be given this honor. That’s why, deep down inside, I believed it was only temporary, for a season, since I was far from being qualified on all counts.
“I know we failed,” said Jake. “Ian must have known we were there. It’s the only logical explanation.”
He was talking about the cemetery and the attack on our small band of warrior Slayers.
“I sure hope Joey is okay.”
“I went to visit him yesterday,” said Jake. “The nurse told me what you did.”
“What did she say?” I asked, not completely sure, since I’d done so many things I wasn’t very proud of lately.
“You donated blood for Joey. That was a big sacrifice knowing how much you fear hospitals. You inspired me, and I donated too. I made Nate and David go. The big babies! They whined like little girls, but they went anyway.”
“I went the next morning before school. I should have done more. Joey risked his life to save my mom. Giving blood was nothing. I’m not afraid anymore.”
“Did you talk to your mom yet?”
“No. It’s frustrating. I will though, soon, real soon.”
I didn’t tell Jake about my plans to go to Water’s Garage. I wanted to go alone. I was just not ready to let Jake inside my world of pain when it came to the subject of my dad. Besides, Jake was carrying enough heavy cargo on his own shoulders without adding more of my damaged life to the pile.
When I came downstairs, mom was standing by the front door, her silver handbag draped over her slender arm. Clutching a tissue, she stared spellbound at the doorknob.
“Mom, what are you doing?”
“Oh,” she jumped and spun around, grabbing her chest. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you come down.” She fidgeted nervously with her hair. “You’re better now. That’s good,” she smiled.
“Yeah, I had a visit from an angel, and now I’m well.” Why not tell the truth? She’d just think I was joking. Still I waited for a reaction…nothing.
I studied her closely. Not only was she wearing dark green colors that she’d never be caught wearing outside the house. She was restless and clearly not herself. I’d noticed her changing lately. Now it seemed my fun-loving mom had been replaced by whatever this thing was…a demon, controlled robot, maybe. It struck me that something else was missing. The house was much too quiet. “Where’s Aunt Linda and Peter?”
“Honey, they’ve been in the city for the past three days, visiting Aunt Lisa in Boston. Linda is checking out a great florist for my wedding. Apparently, Lisa can get us a big discount on arrangements,” answered mom. “They’ll be back tomorrow morning. Oh, and I almost forgot, Peter’s anxious to talk to you about something. He wouldn’t tell me.” She fished her car keys out of her bag and dropped them on the small table.
“You’re not driving to work?” I asked.
“No. Ian doesn’t think it’s safe. You know, since the murder and everything. He wants to protect me, so he’s driving me from now on. It’s not safe out there Shonna. Maybe you should come with us too. After all, you’re going the same place Ian is.”
I scooped up the keys. “No thanks. Um, mom, this just sounds a little insane. You’ve never been afraid to drive before.”
“Oh, Ian’s right, you know. I need to listen to him. He’s looking out for my safety. I’ve never had anyone who cared so much. Even your father didn’t worry about me like this.”
“Mom... that’s not caring. That’s control. Look, mom, we need to talk.”
Suddenly, the front door opened. Mom stiffened, nervously shushing me up. “We’ll talk later, I promise,” she whispered.
Ian strolled through the front door without knocking. “Ready?” he said, not wanting an answer. He took her arm and pulled her toward the door, glancing back at me. “I thought you were sick.”
“Not anymore.”
“I have no patience for fakers. Do it again and I’ll give you detention.”
“I’m not a faker,” I said. “I had a virus.”
Ian turned and smiled down at mom. “Honey,” he said in a soft counterfeit voice. “I hate to impose on you, but I was wondering…” He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “Would you mind getting me one of those bottles of cold water from the freezer in the basement?”
“Sure,” said mom, but before leaving, her eyes flashed nervously at me.
“Little Bee,” said Ian cracking a smile of arrogance. He stepped directly in front of me. “You know what my favorite thing is about this world?”
I hate him calling me that name. I stared, not responding, wondering what evil game, he was playing now.
“It’
s so ripe with cruel intentions, isn’t it?” He leaned in closer. “I see everything. So don’t be fooled by some false sense of power that you think you might possess. And don’t think I’m going to be easy to kill.” He gave me a knowing grin. “You just can’t imagine how many have tried and failed.” His face waxed hard, while his voice went very soft. “Remember this little Bee, I have ample opportunity. I can take everything away from you…everything you’ve ever loved or ever wanted.”
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I was loath to admit that he was right. He had authority at school. He would keep me from the best colleges. He’d torment, hurt, or kill everyone close to me. He had ample time alone with mom…controlling her like some limp puppet on a string, and that’s what frightened me most of all. I shuddered to think what else he was capable of doing.
He chuckled, perhaps from the shocked look on my face. “So we’ll talk later about your disrespectful attitude toward me, understood?”
I gritted my teeth, wanting to kill him, feeling my clothes starting to shift, just as mom came back with his water and the shifting stopped.
He took the bottle and kissed her forehead. “I’m such a lucky man.” He turned and smiled at me. “Standing here with my two favorite women in all the world.” He winked.
“No,” said mom, wrapping her arms around him, “I’m the lucky one.”
I think I’m going to be sick… all over his shiny, wingtip shoes.
Now more than ever, I was determined to expose Ian. Mom needed to know the truth and end this madness before it was too late. It seemed nearly impossible to get her alone. I thought her birthday would be the perfect excuse to spend time with her, just the two of us, but my plans were sabotaged. I was forced to go to dinner with Ian and the entire family at the country club… boring!
Every year since dad’s death mom had always thought up fun things to do on her birthday and mine, like the year mom decided we should have a picnic at the top of the world. We broke into Treasure Island after midnight and had the park all to ourselves. We rocked the place. We’d climb the Ferris wheel to the top car, sat inside, and had a midnight meal at the very top of the world. We cleaned up afterwards, and I’d watch mom drop an envelope of money in the slot of the office door, with a thank you note. It all stopped when they finally got security cameras. Besides, I was getting too old for that kind of entertainment, wasn’t I? I believed that these fun times with mom were more then just therapy; this was my idea of a wonderful, happy life. I missed it. Mom promised we would have a fun night soon. Time was running out, it was less than four weeks before the wedding. I wasn’t going to wait much longer.
After school, I stopped at the Common Ground to pick up a large regular coffee, then made my way to Water’s Auto Repair. It was around 4:30 by the time I walked into Brian’s office. I knew this, because the mechanics were all getting ready to go home.
Gauge sat at his desk studying a parts manual. He was not wearing his usual greasy coveralls. He had on a white, sleeveless T-shirt, and jeans. Painted on his muscular right arm was a tattooed copy of Reni’s painting, The Archangel Michael, about to take out the devil. Underneath were scars, resembling claw marks, probably the result of some demonic attack.
“Have a seat,” he said.
I slid into an old metal chair. “Is it true?” I asked, “Were you with my father when he died?”
“I thought you might want to talk with me one of these days.” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Sam was my friend…” He winced as if in pain.
I understood that pain. I lived with it everyday. You’d think I would feel some sort of consolation knowing someone else suffered too, but there is no relief in shared agony. No permanent solace for this wretched grief, just that same torturous ache.
Something just clicked into place in my mind. “My dad didn’t fight the Familiar alone. You fought with him. You made him a hero, didn’t you?”
“Not true,” he snapped in anger, almost a knee-jerk reaction. “Sam is the real hero!” He buried his face in his hands.
I wish now that I hadn’t come. I got up to leave.
“Wait,” he reached out. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t go.”
Reluctantly, I sat back down.
His eyes flickered up to meet mine. “You should know what happened. I’m just not sure…how to begin.” He stood up and paced slowly in front of the windows.
“You think this armor makes you a super-hero? You think you can take on the world? Well, that was your father. He didn’t think about the consequences before he did anything. Sam just wanted a better world for you to live in. That’s why he did it.” His shoulders slumped forward, and he sighed deeply. “Your father needed to get out of town. He was in trouble. He had done something that made him a target. The Elder wars caused many of us to go undercover to protect our world leaders. When we got the call to go to England, Sam thought it was his perfect cover, so we both took the job. He believed his family would be safe... you and Terry. They’d leave you alone, they’d follow him, and he was right, they did.”
“I don’t understand, dad got in trouble with the law?” I asked.
“Yes and no. I can’t tell you anything specific. Not right now. In fact, the less you know the better off you’ll be.”
I nodded only because I was impatient to hear the rest of the story.
“We worked undercover as the Prime Minister’s bodyguards for two weeks. That’s what every Slayer did to protect our world leaders from the spiritual war Belial had waged. I kept telling Sam that we were being watched. I was sure of it.
Sam’s mind was always on the business he had left behind. A dark cloud stayed over him. He remained depressed, miserable, missing his family. I finally convinced him to go home. He bought a ticket for a morning flight, but he never made it.
We didn’t question anything…we should have. That night at, 11:45, we had to meet the Prime Minster at the church cemetery. He said he had important news to tell us. We were not surprised that he wanted to meet us in private…nobody could be trusted and yet I couldn’t image why he’d chosen the cemetery. I figured he had his reasons.
It was bitter cold. Leaves were burning in piles along the fence. My eyes stung from the smoke, but I stayed focused on the job. I kick myself now, every time I think about it. The fires were to mask the odor of demons. They came, so many of them. We killed most of them. Sam stayed right in front, protecting the Prime Minister, shielding him. Only we didn’t know the Prime Minster was already dead. Killed by a Familiar Spirit, the same spirit who stood directly behind him.” Brian gulped hard. “He stabbed your father through the back into his heart.”
My hand shot up to my mouth. I gasped.
Gauge dropped down into the chair, slumped forward. “I didn’t know…” He shook his head. “Sam’s body lay in a puddle of blood…the Familiar Spirit laughing as he vanished. I carried Sam in my arms into a small hole-in-the-wall pub nearby, the only place open. He was already dead when they got him to the hospital.”
Gauge hung his head. A hush descended on the room.
The atmosphere weighed heavy with misery…as an apparition from years past haunted the space between us. The silence grew awkward. Hard. I struggled to think of something to say…thank you. It didn’t seem at all appropriate. I stood up. “I have to go.” I had almost made it to the door, when Gauge stopped me.
“Wait, please.”
I turned to face him.
“If there is anything, anything at all, I can do for you and Terry, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
I gave him a small nod before I sprinted for mom’s Jeep. How stupid I had been, thinking I needed to know the truth. Perhaps I’d just been better off not knowing. It hurt thinking about why. Why dad was not content to just take care of his family instead of getting in trouble. Really, what kind of trouble did you get in to, dad? The only small comfort I had now was the knowledge that dad didn’t die alone.
I started the engine. A black motorcycle
stealthily pulled away from the side of the building. The driver looked just like Rick Steel. I floored it. When my tires broke free from the loose asphalt, I jerked but stalled out. By the time I got the Jeep going again, the bike was long gone.
I closed my eyes briefly. I knew it was Rick…the vintage Harley-Davidson with the same dent in the front fender. Why would Rick follow me? Spying on me? You are imagining things, girl. Pull yourself together.
I took a deep breath. My thoughts drifted back to the black-and-white images of dad’s funeral. I had never fully comprehended the shared sadness with other people. How insensitive my little world must have been back then, thinking dad’s death happened to mom and me only. I’d never even considered the pain of others.
Now I saw it clearly on Brian Waters’ face, as if the words were written in permanent marker. What if. He had to be thinking this, because I could not stop thinking about it too. What if Brian Waters had been standing in front of the Prime Minister instead of dad?
* * *
Chapter 20