DESCENT

by Sandy DeLuca

  Fifteen stones, fifteen herbs…

  But she’d told me she couldn’t stop what had already been set in motion.

  Nevertheless, I could feel Lil. I’d been dreaming about her for days. I heard her call once in early morning when I was slowly awakening.

  Call Aunty, don’t worry about what your mother says—

  Sammy kept all the money and only gave me change when I bought soda from the machine, or wanted candy from the office downstairs. I wouldn’t have been able to call Lil even if I’d had the guts.

  There came a point when I couldn’t remember how long we’d been in Miami. Time and incidents overlapped. Reality and dreams blended together. All I knew was that it seemed like an eternity since we’d been on the road. My family’s faces became unclear and vague in my mind, but I thought of them often, fearful they’d slip away from me completely. The full moon in October was sometimes called the Hunter’s Moon.

  Aunt Lil said that endings occurred during the full moon, endeavors were completed and questions were sometimes answered. She said the full moon in October is a moon of potency. It’s the time when the spirit world and the world of flesh are closest. It’s the time when guardian angels are near—and demons rise up from the Underworld.

  The Hunter’s moon shined round and bright in the Florida sky. It was difficult to believe that I’d been with Sammy for so long, that we’d lived in that rattrap for so many months. On that night, the night of the full moon in October, I brought out my drawing paper and charcoal. Sammy had gone to do some training at a new gym he’d found on the Boulevard. That’s where he said he was going, anyway. He’d jogged there and his car sat beneath a sagging palm tree. I wished I had the keys so I could get rid of those damn rifles, and the pills and whatever the hell else he had stashed inside that truck.

  I wanted to talk to Maria, needed the company, but when I got downstairs I found the office locked and no trace of either sister.

  Unusual, I thought. The door was always open. If they weren’t in the office, or sitting out on the walk, they were within earshot.

  Their apartment was attached to the office, and they made it a point to be ready when new borders arrived and to sell postcards and souvenirs. They loved to chat with the neighbors. The tea was always ready—the whiskey always strong.

  I wondered if maybe Estrella had talked her sister into going out for a night of dancing and drinks.

  I called their names. Silence.

  A stray cat emerged from the bushes, stopped, licked his paw then scurried into the alley.

  I followed, cutting through the alley.

  The cat sat on top of a dumpster. A horrible stench filled the air, and I pinched my nose as I walked by.

  I was about to head back to the room when something shiny caught my eye. I bent down to pick it up and saw that it was a bangle earring just like the one that had fallen out of the sheets.

  For just a second, I thought I heard Maria’s laughter, but then thunder boomed. I looked to the sky just as a jagged streak of lightning lit up the darkness. A hard and relentless rain began to fall, so I left the earring and ran back to the room as if the dead were hot on my heels.

  And maybe they were.

  Once back at the room, I clicked on the TV but all I could find were the same old reruns.

  The rain stopped as suddenly as it began.

  I thought about taking a nap but was far too restless and knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep. Instead, I spread my art out on the bed and invoked the ghosts of those Sammy had murdered.

  But this time they didn’t come.

  There was a sudden knock at the door.

  I looked at the clock, frightened. It couldn’t be Sammy, he wouldn’t knock and he would never come back so soon, not if he was drinking—or really working out.

  I moved across the room slowly and put my ear to the door. “Who’s there?”

  * * *

  A woman turns the corner. Is she talking to me? “The sun’s coming out. It’ll be hotter later unless it rains.”

  Aunt Lil? I want to say, and for a moment I allow myself the fantasy that it’s really her. But Lil’s dead, and the woman before me is just an old bag lady.

  I light a cigarette; rub some coke on my gums. Once it kicks in I remove a flask of whiskey from my purse and take a couple gulps. My nerves settle.

  The sky is darkening. I take a seat on a splintered bench outside the old post office, watch traffic moving down Westminster Street. The light turns red, somebody ignores it. A siren blares. Red and blue lights flash.

  It takes a moment before the realization hits me. It’s Janice Longia. “Janice, how the hell are you? What are you doing here?” Something’s not right. Time is all jumbled up. I shouldn’t have drunk and used the coke.

  The bag lady stops in front of me. There are white hairs sticking out of her chin. Her eyes are blue like mine. She’s holding a tin cup in her hand.

  “Go away.”

  “Bitch,” she mutters.

  CHAPTER 52

  The demons continue to torment me. Don’t they know that I’m on my way to seal a pact?

  Or am I just on my way back to Hell with the lot of them?

  * * *

  Knocks sounded again.

  I leaned close to the door. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Jericho. Is Sammy here?”

  “One minute.” I was relieved to hear Jericho’s voice. I’d kept my true feelings hidden to protect us both, but I’d recently begun to admit to myself there was an attraction between us.

  I tucked all the drawings inside the pad, and once satisfied they were hidden from sight, I opened the door.

  I gazed down at the pool, over his shoulder; saw a dark shape hulking by a lounge chair—a black dog. I blinked my eyes, looked again and it was gone.

  “Sammy’s not here?” Jericho looked into my eyes. “You okay, Julia? You look a little pale.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve told you a million times that I’m not used to this heat. That’s all it is.”

  I was still holding my drawing pad.

  Jericho’s expression turned to one of curiosity. “Sammy said you were good at art, but he didn’t mention you were working on anything new. Can I see?”

  “Sammy doesn’t know I’m working on anything. Please don’t mention it.” I hated the way my voice sounded, like I was begging.

  “Why don’t you want Sammy to know? He ought to be happy that you’re doing something you enjoy—something you’re really good at.”

  “I was just going to put this away. Hold on a min—”

  He reached over, took the pad from me, slid out a drawing and held it out in front of him.

  It was a sketch of a pretty young girl, Star. Tears spilled onto her face. One of her hands was pierced by a nail. A drop of blood trickled down her chin. Black birds flew above her. The grim reaper was at her side.

  Sammy had so thoroughly humiliated me and destroyed what little self-esteem I’d had to begin with, that I found myself angry for having allowed Jericho to see the drawing. I should’ve stopped him from seeing it, I told myself. Everyone’s smarter than I am. I’m so stupid, Sammy was right. What am I doing?

  Jericho noticed how agitated I was and smiled at me calmly. “Relax. It’s cool, OK?” He studied the drawing for several minutes as my heart pounded. “Julia, this is amazing. It reminds me of a German artist named Kathe Kollwitz. Her work was emotional, intense. They say she had the talent to transmit personal grief and terror into her art.”

  It took a moment for his words to hit me. I was surprised he knew anything about art, but was even more surprised he liked mine. “It’s from my imagination,” I forced a laugh I hoped he’d buy. “I watch too many violent movies, I guess. Plus I have an aunt who loves to tell dark stories. She should have been a writer or an actress.” It seemed awkward; Jericho standing out in the heat and me inside, feet planted on the shoddy rug. A kiss away from Jericho, inches away from the touch of his hands. The AC was blowin
g on my back. I rubbed my charcoal-smudged hands together. A loose sheet of paper fell from the pad—another drawing—a graphic death scene of Star nailed to a wall and the Devil peering down at her.

  Jericho read the words I’d written on the back of it.

  “A star encountered on a journey to Hell. Sammy killed her in the Carolinas. I didn’t see him kill her, but I saw her face when he picked up the hammer— I made the first cut.”

  “Julia,” he said quietly, “is this from your imagination?”

  My hands shook. “For sure. Maybe I’ll write something one day too. A horror novel or—I just write notes on the back of my artwork.” I was so nervous I couldn’t seem to stop talking. “I get lots of ideas, I—my Aunt Lil passed a lot of ideas down to me. I’m a horror buff, I—”

  “Horror, huh?” He wasn’t buying it, and I knew it.

  I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, good luck with it, kid.” He laughed lightly. It was a nice laugh. “I don’t know how your writing skills are, but you’re a wonderful artist. Stick to your dreams.”

  He seemed edgy so I just kept talking. I didn’t want him to leave. “Yeah, thanks. I guess it all comes from my upbringing. My mother was always a bit neurotic and Daddy had to work hard to keep her happy, to keep her from going off the deep end. So sometimes I got no attention at all. I’d just go into this fantasy world. I think that’s how I developed this really twisted imagination.”

  For the first time his expression hinted maybe he was changing his mind, maybe I’d convinced him. I was certain both our lives depended on it.

  “Makes sense,” he said.

  “Hey, please don’t mention any of this to Sammy, OK?”

  “Sure. I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I? I can see why he wouldn’t understand your work.”

  It was in his eyes; in the way he tucked the drawing back inside the pad. He hadn’t come there to see Sammy. He had something to say to me.

  “Your parents are up North?”

  I figured a guy like Jericho had skeletons in his closet too. “Yeah,” I said.

  Footsteps sounded and he turned. It was just the old man from a downstairs room getting ice from the machine. He stared at us.

  Salvatore emerged from his room, stepped onto the balcony. Several of the other tenants opened their doors, stood there just watching us.

  Jericho took a step backwards, was turning to leave. “I’m not sure this is right, but I just can’t leave things alone. I—”

  Doors slammed. Blinds opened behind stained windows.

  Salvatore called to me. ”Everything alright, Julia?”

  “Yeah,” I called back. “I’m good. Thanks.”

  He waved and made his way back to his room.

  We’re all around you. We watch when you’re alone.

  I turned my attention back to Jericho. “Some of these people seem stranger and stranger to me every day. Sit down and talk with me a while?”

  “I want to—I have to, but hey, I don’t want Sammy coming back and thinking the wrong thing, you know.”

  “I’m not sure where he goes the nights he’s not hanging with you guys but he never comes back early. He won’t be back until late. Besides, no harm, you came here looking for him. If he does come back early, I’ll just tell him I told you it was okay to wait.”

  “I’m not one to mess with somebody else’s woman. This whole thing is complicated, but I guess we do need to talk. Tell you what…let’s go down by the pool. Sound good?”

  “Okay,” I told him. “I’ll meet you down there.”

  Rather than return everything to the bag, I shoved the drawings, pad and charcoals under the bed then left the door ajar, as I always did when Sammy was out, and made my way down the stairs.

  Jericho bought us both sodas from the vending machine then we sat on the tattered lounge chairs by the pool. I could smell pot, and heard Maria talking in the distance, a man’s voice then laughter.

  “Seems the Cortez women like to party.”

  “They’re cool,” I said. “They feed me a lot.”

  Salvatore emerged from his room again, made his way down the stairs and walked past us. I noticed there were scars on the back on his neck too. I imagined how tough his life must have been.

  “Things are not always what they seem.” Jericho turned to me, his face serious. “This isn’t the life for a kid like you. Sammy’s dangerous. He’s not right. This place isn’t right. Go home. I’m sure your parents are crying their hearts out for you.”

  “I can’t. I tried calling my parents before we left Jersey. My mother screamed at me, told me to never come home.”

  “Parents say lots of shit. I’m sure she’s worried sick about you.”

  “I’m afraid.”

  “Look, I’m no saint, OK? I’ve done some bad shit, and I pay for those things every day. What I do know is that book your boyfriend has is bad news. It’s not his. It’s in the wrong hands. It was stolen, and he opened up the flood gates to Hell when he started using it.”

  My head began to spin. “Why, what is it?”

  “It’s sick and evil. Julia, I know what Sammy’s done. You’ve got to get away from him.”

  “He told you?”

  “Listen, I can leave Miami in the morning, drive up North. I’ve got some things to settle there, may as well do it now. I can take you home.”

  “I can’t leave him. He’ll follow me and kill me. He’ll kill us both. You don’t fucking understand how he is, he’ll—”

  “I understand more than you realize. Didn’t I tell you I met the Devil once too?” He looked around quickly then back at me. “You’ll meet him too if you stay here, do you understand? He’ll destroy you, Julia.”

  “I can’t leave.”

  He stood, shrugged his shoulders. “Then there’s not much more I can do for you.”

  Maria’s laughter grew louder. Estrella joined in.

  “Are you still leaving Miami?”

  He turned, smiled sadly. “I’ll come around to see you before I go.”

  I watched him walk away, climb onto his bike and drive off. My heart was breaking but I didn’t have the strength to stop him. Sammy. Always Sammy. Always controlling me. Always there…even when he wasn’t.

  The moon, shining bright, mocked me.

  * * *

  I think about the cats. I want to go home, snuggle with them beneath the covers, listen to them purr.

  It’s thundering and rain is falling softly. Shadows dance on the pavement and suddenly the city is empty. It’s as if I’ve moved into another dimension and it isn’t the same city at all, but something else.

  Hell? Am I finally, truly there?

  CHAPTER 53

  I’m so warm. It doesn’t feel like winter at all now. And the snow the weatherman predicted is only this gentle rain.

  I remove my coat and begin walking again. The water feels good on my face, but it’s so lonely and so desolate here. The buildings are boarded up and deserted, and when I gaze down alleys there is only darkness.

  Darkness calling to me and cradling my fear.

  * * *

  I wished Jericho hadn’t left but I’d been too frightened to stop him. Sammy had conditioned me to the point where I feared him beyond any reasonable human scope. Sammy was something more than just some deranged and abusive boyfriend. He was something darker and more powerful, and we both knew it.

  I couldn’t go back to the room, so I stayed at the garbage-strewn pool as the hours slowly passed.

  Eventually, I fell asleep.

  I dreamed Maria and Estrella were circling the pool, making graceful feline movements, hissing and growling. They were naked, chanting something in another language. Their skin was shining, as though they’d sprayed it with glitter, and their eyes were bright and yellow like the moon. A man dressed in a black silk suit joined them, kissed them both and whispered in their ears as he tied their wrists with silken strands. They giggled as he kissed their necks.

  Clouds covered
the moon and a black hound stood beside Maria. Sammy rounded the corner, knelt beside the suit-clad man. The Cortez sisters howled like wild animals.

  Sammy said something then began to wail.

  He kissed me hard and gave me a knife. It was light. There was blood on the tip. He lifted me, brought me to Estrella, but she wasn’t Estrella any longer. A young, blonde, doe-eyed woman gazed up at me. There was fear in her eyes. Sammy held my hand as the knife slit her throat. Another woman screamed as I sliced off her eyelids and then drove the knife into her heart.

  Footsteps woke me. The surreal visions faded.

  Dreams. Hauntings. Mysteries of the mind.

  As my head continued to clear I began to think a lot more about Jericho’s visit and offer to take me out of there. He’d been concerned about my well-being since the first day we met. I should’ve left with him. Instead, I’d allowed him to walk away.

  * * *

  When Sammy finally came back that night, he was high. He called to me, his footsteps dragging on the pavement before kicking the lounge chair I’d fallen asleep in. “Julia, did you doze off down here? What the fuck?” He pointed to our room. “The door’s fucking wide open. Are you an idiot, or what?”

  He was stoned worse than usual. He smelled of pot and whiskey, sex and blood.

  He unlocked the car, removed some shopping bags.

  There was blood on my jeans. Did Sammy put it there?

  He laughed at me when I touched the bloodstains. “I want to get really fucked up.”