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by Charles W Jones

  He extended his hand to Eli, who took his hand and shook, then released it. Tyler turned on his heel, leaving Eli shaking his head.

  “Damned fool,” Eli muttered. “Has no idea the trouble he’s in, and all he does is offer his girlfriend to me.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t even know he’s owned.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  But draw near hither, ye sons of the sorceress, the seed of the adulterer and the whore.

  Isaiah 57:3, KJV

  Time flowed at a quick pace. Neither Tyler nor Cody noticed they hadn’t seen Connie and her family or Nathan, Leona, and Bergen. They were occupied with moving forward with Mr. Bel’s desire to restore the town and tell the world of God’s love. T

  he progress of the restoration project was further than Tyler had expected in three months. The building between the Top Hat and the theater was complete; now the question of what to do with it. He wasn’t sure what it had been before Sam had taken it over. The front was similar to the Top Hat with the strip of glass block windows high in the wall. The apartments above the storefronts and theater were returned to what they had been when they were first built. The fire had damaged these the worst, but they had succeeded in passing all building inspections from the County.

  At first, only people from nearby farms and towns knew about the changes being made in Shoshoni; as Belphegor had predicted, the cleanup had become contagious, the west side was painted, boards removed from windows, and the malt shop on the corner reopened.

  A small park was put together across the street in the empty land between two old buildings. Tyler was happy to see people taking an interest in making the town nice again. The residents of Shoshoni also started cleaning their yards of trash and weeds.

  As word travel about the restoration of Main Street, more people came to see the transformation; national broadcast news channels did special interest pieces. Each night the Top Hat was full; Tyler was relieved he had been able to find a staff before they had started flooding the streets to see the changes. At the same time, Jen no longer moped around filled with boredom. Many people stayed the night, filling the rooms upstairs. The motels on the west end of town were thankful to take the overflow traffic.

  Cody studied the Holy Bible; reading it cover to cover and learning everything he found. Studying didn’t take control of his time. When he wasn’t sitting in the park reading, and waiting for the Shoshone Theatre to be operational, he talked with Mr. Bel about the things he’d learned.

  In a few more days, completion of the theater was expected. Hardwood floors had been installed with red and gold carpet running down the aisle. Above the center aisle, three bronze chandeliers illuminated the path. Matching scones lighted the carved-velour-papered walls, three on each side. The size of the room was smaller than he remembered as a child; as did much of the store and other buildings on the block.

  The tiny orchestra pit at the end of the aisle glowed with white light. Along the edge of the stage, three half-dome, brass lights with clover-shaped, cutouts blazed warm light onto the red-velvet curtain fringed with gold piping. When open, the curtains framed the narrow stage. All the lights in the small catwalk had been adjusted to brighten whoever stood there. Cody was pleased with the work; the majesty of the small theater was astounding compared to the first time he had seen it. When the sound and video equipment had been installed, his work began.

  “Figured I’d find you in here,” Tyler said. From the plush seat, Cody looked up at him glowing with enthusiasm.

  “You were right. There was a bricked over door backstage leading next door. We can put the Green Room over there.”

  “Good to hear.” Cody returned his attention to the stage. “Definitely better than having to climb the spiral staircase.”

  “You nervous?”

  “Only the biggest understatement ever.” Cody stood. “I don’t have the faintest idea of what I’m going to say.”

  They left the theater, stopping in the small lobby. The same carpet running down the aisle lay on the floor. The walls had been painted crisp white. The same red velvet as the stage curtain covered the windows of the box offices. The single, swinging door, leading into the theater, was padded with the fabric of the upholstery. A simple brass and crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling. Wires dangled from the walls, waiting for sconces and speakers to be installed.

  “What was this building?” Cody asked when they were outside.

  “Not sure,” Tyler answered. “Do you remember the woman who stayed in the apartment above it, though?”

  “Vaguely, why?”

  “Her grandmother owned the dress shop on the other side of the store entrance. She came here from Paris with her husband in the early 1900s.”

  “Huh.” Cody gazed to the top of the building to the right of the theater. “Why didn’t she have the apartment over the dress shop? And how do you know all this?”

  He shrugged, wondering why Cody didn’t, and said, “Oh man, I almost forgot.” He trotted toward the mercantile entrance. “You have to see this.”

  Cody had never seen the store empty, only filled floor-to-ceiling with everything imaginable—He loved coming here as a kid with his dad, walking the rows of shelves looking at all types of things. Most of them he knew, screws, ropes, wires, a plethora of hardware, a few he did not; sometimes his dad didn’t even know and answered with a shrug when asked.

  Putting tin duct elbows on his arms with his brother as they acted like knights in shining armor with broomsticks for swords. They pretended to cast unthreaded fishing poles, hoping for a whopper.

  Another fun-filled activity was pointing pellet guns at targets hanging from the ceiling before Dad told them to leave stuff alone—now, he saw to the back of the barren store. Not even the giant plaid shirt hung from the ceiling of the men’s department. All the toys were gone from the kid’s corner, and none of the Jim-jigs which had been displayed on the shelves around the opening Tyler passed through.

  This section of the store was as bare as the first. Where china plates and cat clocks with eyes roaming from side to side in time with wagging tails had hung were empty, pale-green walls.

  The area near the window, where life-sized, robotic Santa stood with Lava Lamps, had been cleared of all merchandise. The rows of buttons, sewing patterns, and fabric were gone. A pungent smell filled the room, not of must or mold, but of an abundance of perfume and incense which had permeated the walls and floor, echoing the store's glory days. Across from him, the doorway to the next section had been framed and ready for Sheetrock to give the former dress shop its privacy back.

  Tyler stood at the top of the stairs under the angled ceiling hiding the stairway up, watching Cody remember what had been in the room. His smile wasn’t exactly happy but not fake or forced. The nostalgia of the place gave him mixed emotions. His search of the room found nothing to be happy about, all the exciting things which had been on display were gone. Tyler cleared his throat, breaking Cody’s trance.

  “There’s nothing in here. What did you want me to see?”

  “It’s down there.” Tyler flipped the switch.

  Cody watched his brother descend the well-lit stairs, but he didn’t move from the top. His mind raced, looking for a memory of going into the basement, but found none. He remembered going upstairs with his dad and brother once—he thought it strange at the time they had to go outside to enter the upstairs of the store, not knowing it had been someone’s home before it had been taken over by furniture for sale—but never down.

  “Uh-oh, Cody’s a scaredy-cat.”

  “Am not.” But he didn’t move.

  “Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost. You’re even paler than one.” He guffawed.

  Cody snarled at his brother and forced his legs to move. The basement wasn’t as bright as the stairway had been. Shadows clung above the fluorescent light fixtures dangling on small chains from the ceiling, and at the edges and corners of the boxes and shelves filling the space.
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  Tyler opened a box, pulling out other boxes. Taking off the lid, he revealed a pair of cowboy boots. He grinned as though he’d found buried treasure. He went to another box, taking out leather purses and wallets.

  “There’s stuff in all the boxes. Vintage western wear! Take a look. I can’t see myself wearing most of it, but someone will. We can sell it once the store opens.”

  Cody wandered the aisle, peeking into boxes. “I thought you said that the place was empty.”

  “Upstairs was. Most of the shelves and display cases are gone, too.”

  “Kinda strange Sam’s family didn’t take this stuff.” He continued farther into the stacks. Every box he examined had treasures of their own. “This one’s full of belts.”

  “You promised,” a whisper hissed.

  “Yeah, and what did I promise, Tyler?” He answered, looking at the intricate carvings of flowers on one of the belts. No answer came. He shook his head, sliding the box back on the shelf.

  The boxes toward the ceiling were thick with dust and cobwebs. At the end of the stack, he looked over his shoulder. Tyler was no longer in the aisle. He’d probably moved to another to see what spoils were there. A fluorescent tube above him flickered and buzzed.

  “You haven’t discussed my release.” The voice came again.

  Heartbeats picked up speed in his chest. A shiver rolled across him. Cody backed into the aisle, scanning the back wall. A single closed door stood in the center of the wall. A cathode of light reflected from the polished brass knob to his eye.

  An undulating shadow covering the intersection of two walls and ceiling loosened itself from its roost and moved down the wall toward the door, which swung inward at its touch. Cold gloom peered out the door. He scanned the impenetrable darkness.

  A flash, like someone flicking a cigarette lighter into life at night, parted the void. A familiar lumpen body and twisting face emerged glaring at Cody.

  The dirty, maroon dress kept the molten flesh from spilling to the floor. Cody’s mouth went dry. A long, ragged index finger motioned for him to join her, and his feet involuntarily obeyed, moving him to the door. His mouth flew open for air to escape, not the scream he had summoned. His hands flailed, wanting to grab anything to keep him from entering the black room.

  A cold breeze blew, wafting the repugnant odor of rotting flesh. His stomach heaved bile into his mouth, burning his tongue.

  At the wrong moment, Cody realized who he was supposed to ask for her release. His fingers tried to dig into the walls around the door but slipped free with every attempt as though the walls were made of smooth steel covered in grease.

  Her invisible grip pulled him closer. She spread her arms, welcoming him. When they were toe-to-toe, she wrapped around him. Ice sank into him; the tighter she squeezed, the colder he became. Consciousness waned. His pulse and breathing slowed.

  “Wait,” he gasped. “I’ll have him release you.” The hug didn’t loosen. “I promise. I’ll do it now.”

  “The others, too?”

  Cody tried to fill his lungs. His head began to pound. Finally, he was able to say, “Our deal was only you, but I’ll ask.”

  She released him.

  He slid to the floor as stars twinkled in the air around his line of vision. Her ashen feet oozed into the floor near his head. His sight fluttered back to find the fierce beauty of her face, the way it had been in the parking garage; the memory seemed distant as though the event happened decades ago.

  He wheezed and coughed as he sat up. Pushing himself to his knees, he took in her exquisite features. Slowly, he stood on wobbling legs, glad his lungs were filling with air.

  “What is your name?”

  “Hatshepsut.” Her accent was strange to his ears, and her name stranger.

  “There you are,” Tyler said, stepping into the room. His nose wrinkled. “What is that smell?” He scrutinized the narrow hall. “How’d you open the door? I haven’t found the key. Do you smell it? It’s like something died in here.”

  “Yeah, it’s nasty.” He watched the shadow slither through the arched hall. “I need to talk with Mr. Bel.” He followed the vapor tendrils along the corridor three steps.

  “I don’t know where it goes,” Tyler said with furrowed brow, watching his brother stagger into the darkness. “And I didn’t bring a flashlight.”

  “Oh?” Cody stopped, then turned around, though he wanted to follow the shadow slithering away. “I guess we’ve found something else you didn’t know about.” With a wide grin, he patted him on the shoulder as he passed to return into the storage room. “I have a feeling it runs from the hotel to the unknown building. I bet they used it to run hookers or johns, and booze from the hotel to the gambling joints.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” His brows furrowed as he looked toward the theater. “I haven’t seen any other doors down there. Wonder if Mr. Bel knows?”

  “Shouldn’t be too difficult, mismatched bricks are usually a great give-a-way,” Cody replied halfway through the stacks.

  “Smart one, aren’t you?”

  Tyler turned toward the Shanley. A shudder attacked him. He didn’t like the tunnel. Somehow it didn’t seem right. He hurried after Cody. Realizing he hadn’t shut the door, he turned back not wanting whatever had caused the smell to take over the room. He closed his eyes with the childish thought of if he didn’t see what lurked in there, it didn’t exist.

  Flinging his hand into the space, he grabbed the door, and pulled it closed. His stomach convulsed with a gurgle as though his bowels were announcing an imminent evacuation. He trotted across the room, reaching Cody as he took his first step up.

  Chapter Thirty

  For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

  Ephesians 6:12, KJV

  “Ask him about the tunnel,” Tyler requested, as he hurried across the lobby to escape into the apartment. The stench in the tunnel had made him feel dirty, and he wanted to take a bath. Jen had gone to Riverton to pick up the order of linens and towels; maybe, pillows, too, he didn’t know. She wanted all the rooms changed before the next surge of guests arrived. As he sunk into the tub, his eye caught movement from the open the door to the hallway. “Not now, Becki, I want to relax.”

  She turned her head toward the apartment, hearing her name. She’d been drawing in front of the lobby window all morning and hadn’t moved from the spot. She squinted, pondering his words. Since she wasn’t allowed in without invitation, she wasn’t able to investigate.

  There’d been much activity in the hotel recently. It was probably one of the women she’d seen coming from the darkness to play with Tyler. Laughter drifted from the apartment, confirming her assumption.

  Cody rapped on the door, and without waiting for an invitation, entered. Mr. Bel turned to him with a smile, standing in his place near the window. The bed as always looked as though it hadn’t been slept in, but did Angels sleep? A film of perspiration formed on Cody’s body and his groin stirred as a thought arose of what they might do on the bed.

  “I bet you’re excited for the theater to be ready,” Mr. Bel said, motioning for him to sit as he sat in the chair nearest the window. “I see from your expression that you didn’t come to talk about the theater.”

  “No.” Cody sat. “I made a deal with someone a while back I had forgotten until I was reminded a few minutes ago. She helped me with something, and I promised to help her.”

  “I see.” His mouth turned into a thin line. “Hatshepsut.” Cody nodded, not at all surprised Mr. Bel knew who. “Mark had advised me, you made a deal after she fixed your car.” Cody realized for the first time who had been in the vehicle next to him at the intersection; Mark La’mar. “Don’t worry. I will make sure whatever deal you made with her is fulfilled. She’ll need a better façade for Tyler to be attracted.”

  “She doesn’t want Tyler. She wants something else.”r />
  “No? I can’t imagine what else she’d want,” Mr. Bel toyed.

  “I promised you’d free her.”

  Mr. Bel’s stare grew dark. The skin of his forehead became taught. After a moment, he said, “Interesting predicament. You don’t have the authority.” His smile returned, luxurious and appealing; knowing by making this one exception, Cody stayed close. But it didn’t mean punishment wasn’t looming in his future for overstepping. “But what’s done is done.” He snapped his fingers. “Hatshepsut.”

  The malformed figure appeared in the corner behind Cody. Her face attempted to hold its original form in the presence of the Fallen Angel’s beauty but failed as it sagged and twitched, gaze fixing on Belphegor.