by Matthew Buza
The light from the market seemed miles away. His eyes opened wide trying to adjust to the darkness. The faint yellow light was barely visible along the far wall. Isaac steadied himself running his hands over the old wooden paneling. He could feel the rough edging guiding him in the right direction.
Isaac felt something close to his head. He reached up to find the ceiling slowly dropping to just inches from his hair. It reminded him of Lazarus's hallway down to his basement. He pulled a deep breath and felt the tightness in his chest. The dim light and the closing walls pushed down as the feelings of claustrophobia set in. He felt trapped, not just in this hallway but with Lazarus, and his future. His life felt like walking through a fog. Everything was uncertain and he felt powerless to stop it. The only thing he could do was focus on the path ahead, the next obstacle in front of him. He just needed to get to the light and then into the shop. He pressed forward, his hands feeling along the tightening walls.
He reached the yellow light and felt around for a door. His hair brushed the roof of the hallway and his shoulders started to graze against the wood siding. There was no door. He looked back to see the end of the hallway and the shadows of pedestrians walking across the opening. He checked once more, feeling out over the wall. He thought to himself, There has to be something here.
He felt the light. It was a small dome and was warm to the touch. His finger hovered for a moment and he pushed. There was a buzz on the other side of the wall. Isaac heard feet nervously shuffling over a wool rug. They came closer and closer and passed by the wall in front of him. A series of locks clicked on the other side of the wall. There was a sharp sneeze and the final lock turned, and Isaac saw the thin red outline of a door. The door was fire-red and the light fell out across the hallway illuminating the dirt-crusted base boards. Isaac saw footprints and black streaks leading into the shop entrance.
The door opened and candlelight moved out into the hall. The voice was sharp and critical. “Can I help you?”
Isaac's spoke out. “Yes sir, I'm interested in some spells.”
“Well, we ain’t got no spells here.” The candle started to pull back into the doorway.
“Please sir, I was told this was a spell shop. I have gold to pay for them.”
The candle paused; it was the first time Isaac could see the hand holding the candle. It was old. Wrinkles cut deep grooves across the old man's fingers. The yellowed nails dug into the bronze candle holder. “Well, you got gold you say? Then I might have something for you then. Come on in and watch your head.”
The candle disappeared and the door was left open. The soft red light shone out across the hallway. Isaac took a deep breath and felt the gold pouch in his pocket. He dipped his head and walked through the doorway.
The Spell Dealer
The rotting smell hit Isaac in the face as he entered through the doorway. The ceiling lifted, allowing him to stand upright. He quickly scanned the shop and saw it was filled with chest-high shelves filled with small vials and wooden boxes. Above, suspended from the ceiling on thin wires, were rows of preserved animals all stuffed and frozen in place. Stuffed on the tall shelves along the outer wall were large jars of preserved animal heads. Next to the jars were racks lined with large bundles of hair. Each rack was labeled with with small handwritten papers: Bull… Dog… Human.
Isaac slowly walked down an aisle. He smelled something awful, like rotting flesh mixed with honey. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a large mason jar with a newborn child's head. It was bloated and puffy and its eyes swollen shut. He wondered if it was an aborted fetus collected before disposal. He imagined the shopkeeper prowling through the back alley of the clinic waiting for the bags to be deposited in the trash. The jar was filled with a dull brown liquid and small dead tadpole creatures floated on the surface. The jar top was slightly open, as if the shopkeeper were trying to air out the funk, or maybe he forgot to close it after showing an earlier customer. Small flies had taken up residence, dipping and bouncing along the edge.
The old oak shop shelves were sagging under the weight of trinkets and jars. Row upon row of items stretched out, each labeled in a fine cursive. A locked glass case held jars of salves and wrapped dried meats. Prices were listed in multiple currencies, including gold coins.
Ahead, Isaac could see the hunched mound of the man making his way through the rows of items. The man quickly turned the corner to an opening. The light from a small fire fluttered, sending shadows climbing the walls. Isaac wondered how safe it was to have an open flame this deep in Pike's. A simple spark and this shop could burn as well as most of the market.
Isaac stepped by a chair as a flash of light blinded him. A polaroid camera was mounted on the wall between two arms of a stuffed monkey. The camera clicked and spat out the developing image. Isaac rubbed his eyes trying to regain what vision he had left. He reached out and held onto a shelf, knocking over a small stone jar with a stopper covered in wax. Isaac reset the jar and reached for the image. He shook it and saw his shocked face slowly appear. Was this some booby trap or just a joke? He put the image down on the shelf and continued on.
“What the hell is this?” he called out.
“Ah that old thing is a carnival toy. Don't worry about it, just a nice like prank for people walking by those flash spells.”
“Flash spells?”
“Yeah, you know.” He waved his hands over his eyes. “Spells that go boom! Like a Flash.”
Isaac stared at the man. This whole store was just a carnival trick and he happened to be the only sane man there.
“Come on over here and sit down. So you want a spell, eh?”
The man's voice was soft, almost like a young child. He lowered himself into a small leather chair, next to the fireplace. He could feel the heat from the fire as the wood logs popped and cracked. The shopkeeper was dressed in an old brown suit that was tattered at the edges and his thinning white hair was pulled back against his scalp. The man's outward appearance was that of someone in their seventies, but his face was free of any lines or age. He looked younger than Isaac.
Isaac was caught off guard wondering how this young man could be buried in this old body. He tried not to stare. “Yes, sir. I do need a spell.”
“So what's your name?”
Isaac paused not knowing if he should give his real name. He tried to think of something unique but all that came out was, “My name is James.”
“James then. Jim. Jimmy, James, Jimbo?”
“Just James.”
“Just James! Justice James. The lawman's lawman. The terror of the west. Justice James of Seattle. I always liked names. They have meaning and purpose. They help to define the person.”
Isaac's face was confused. “I…I didn't get your name.”
“Well James, I didn't give you it now. Would you like to know it?”
“Well if I'm going to do business with you, then yes.”
“Well there's no guarantee that we'll do any business here, but I'll give you it anyway. My name is Natious. It sounds like nauseous which some people say I make them feel. Ha! It’s short for Ignatius.”
“Well, it is nice to meet you, sir.”
“So James, what are you looking for? What do you need?”
“I need a spell that goes by the name of, Fire Hatch.”
“Fire Hatch.” The man paused longer than Isaac would have expected. “Well now, that's not some simple spell.”
Isaac knew there would be a catch with this. He could see Lazarus laughing on the corner, eating kettle corn thinking about how he sent the boy into the spell shop on a fool's errand. He tried to hide his gathering anger.
“Are you sure you want that spell? Maybe I can fix you up with something more manageable? Maybe some incantations, a soft spirit spell, maybe a good old-fashioned hex. Hexes are always fun.”
“I appreciate it, but that's the one I need to get.”
“And whom are you getting this spell for?”
“Just a group of friends.
”
“Well, I have heard that before. Going to be playing occult? Having some fun with candles and whatnot? This is not some simple spell. It's nothing to mess around with. I don't care who your friends are, there are a lot of people in this town who would love to get their hands on something like this. Why should I sell it to you?”
Isaac tried to maintain his calm. There had to be a way to convince this man. “You are a shop right? You sell things?”
“I do. What are you getting at?”
“Well, you aren't a charity and you're certainly not a school. So you either like to sell things or you don't make any money.”
“Astute observation,” Natious said softly.
“I need that spell and by the looks of it in my pocket I have gold coins to give you for it. To me, there doesn't need to be anything else said.”
Natious stood up from the chair and gingerly walked his way down a narrow set of bookcases. He pulled out a small wooden stool and reached up to the top shelf and pulled down a small wooden box.
“This is your spell. The instructions are inside and there's plenty, so don't go using it all up on the first go-around. Lots of people get spell-happy their first time. And no disrespect, you don't look like someone who's had a ton of experience.”
“You'd be surprised what I've seen and been part of.”
Isaac reached out for the box, but the man pulled back. “Easy boy, I need to see that this is a fair transaction. Do you have the payment?”
Isaac reached into his pants. “I do, how much for the spell?”
“It’s not cheap. Ten gold pieces.”
Isaac took a deep breath and pulled out the canvas sack of coins. He thumbed the coins and counted out the amount. Natious's eyes were wide as he saw the fortune that the boy carried. His uncontrollable greed and his love of gold swelled.
“Well, I see you are a good man who knows what he wants. I see that now. I’ve… I’ve got other spells too. If you might be interested. Relics too. Also, I've got a few potions, something for the ladies maybe? Maybe a boost? Known to help, even for a young man like yourself. Lasts for days. Honest. The women go wild for it.”
“No, I’m fine. Just this spell.”
Natious seemed almost hurt, but quickly rounded the wooden counter and pulled out a small bag to wrap the spell box in. His old wrinkled fingers struggled, his hands shaking with excitement.
“Well, I appreciate you coming into the shop. Please let me know if there's anything else you need. I'd be happy to have your business. Now have you been to any of the other shops around town? Or dealers? I can get you deals on just about anything, so make sure you call up Natious first.”
Isaac smiled. “No I haven't, but I will make sure to come here first.”
A wry smiled came across the old man's face, “Good, good. I always want to get the first crack. I think you'd be happy you did. I get all sorts of interesting things, direct from China. Animal carcasses from Africa. Need ivory? Hell, I've got a whole chest of it.”
Isaac pocketed the spell box. “I do have another question.”
“Sure what's that?”
Isaac grabbed a loose pad of paper sitting on the counter and drew out the symbols he'd seen on the woman’s body. He first drew the eyes and the cascading upside-down crosses. “I was wondering if you have seen this symbol.”
The old man's face went blank as he stared down at the eyes. His cheeks went white as the blood rushed out of his face. He knew something about this. His hand went down to the paper and his forefinger shook. The silence was unnerving and Isaac pressed again. “You've seen this symbol?”
The old man gave a weak answer. “No. But, I would venture to guess it may be upside down.”
“You mean crosses down?”
“Eyes on the path below and watch for the smoke within.” The words hung in the stale air. “It is an old saying.”
“What does it mean?”
“Just that every man has to answer to themselves as they journey below. I don't know about this symbol.”
“You haven't seen it, but maybe some group uses it?”
“You have to understand there’re a lot of symbols out there and quite a few groups in town use different combinations of the occult art. Triangles, eyes, squares and circles. Even the…necromancers…delve into that world.”
Isaac crumbled inside as the man strung out the word.
Did he know something? thought Isaac. He didn't feel safe anymore, not in this place. He felt hopeless again, like when Jalon dragged him down the steps early that night. Suddenly his world closed in around him. He thought of the path out of the store. Why wasn't Lazarus here? Why was he alone with this man? It didn't add up and he wanted out.
“You know what I… I might have something that could help you.”
Isaac didn't want any assistance, he wanted to leave. “You know sir, I think I can just head out. You don't know this symbol. So I don't want to take up too much of your time.”
The old man's greedy voice came back. “No, no, no, I think I might have a book back here on symbols. It won't take long at all. Just hang on there and I'll be right back.”
The old man walked around the corner and Isaac could hear him sifting through papers and pulling down books. His voice mumbled and Isaac grew more nervous as his eyes shifted around the room looking for any movement. Isaac saw the entrance down the rows of spells. In his mind, he saw himself running down the row and breaking out. He could feel the pressure continuing to press down on his shoulders. His shoulders slumped and he called out to the old man, “You know you don't have to look any longer. I don't want to take up any more of your time. I think I should probably leave.”
“Oh, no, no. Just wait one second. Yes, yes, yes, I think I found it.”
The old man walked around the corner and his hands carried a stack of papers. He was pulling out a set of glasses as he looked up to Isaac.
“Look now, I think there might be a group that fits this description.”
“Really?” Isaac was surprised.
“Yeah, I'm almost certain this is the group. In fact, I know they would like to speak with you.”
Isaac froze.
“What are you talking about? What group?”
There was a short rustle from behind Isaac. A set of wall curtains parted and two masked men burst out. Isaac never saw them as they reached around his neck and pulled him to the ground. Isaac could only manage a weak gasp as he hit the floor. The second set of arms grabbed Isaac around the legs and pinned him back. Isaac arched his neck and pulled in a weak breath. It was enough to give him the strength to kick. The man holding his legs flew off and stumbled into the counter. A set of wooden pieces fell to the floor in a crash as the man lunged back towards Isaac.
The old man continued to stare blankly at the squirming mass of men. “Isaac… Isaac. What are we going to do?”
He knows my name, Isaac thought. How?
Isaac stopped resisting and focused on Natious. “Listen.” The old man's voice was firm. “There's someone who wants to see you. She says you are a good friend.”
Isaac let loose a raspy response. “Fuck off.”
He spat at the man.
“You are going to need to be nicer.”
There was a soft click of a woman's heel in the distance. It grew louder as a woman appeared around the corner from where Natious had been searching through the books. She was wrapped in a black raincoat and a hood hung over her face. She stopped and whispered into Natious's ear.
He responded, “Yes ma’am... No… OK, I will.”
He turned, placing the papers on the counter and left the room.
The woman stepped towards Isaac, her black heels popping against the dusty floor. She stopped and lowered herself into a crouch, and Isaac could see her chin and the outline of her lips. Her skin was soft and pale under the hood's shadow.
“Isaac.” He knew this voice. It was the last voice he expected to hear. “I haven't seen you in a while.”
She lifted her delicate fingers to the hood and gently pulled back. Small beads of rain dripped off the fabric onto Isaac's pants. Her black hair framed her face and her piercing eyes burned bright.
“Are you going to say hi?” Zinn's face broke into a thin smile. “Are you still that strong man I first met in the cell?”
She reached out and gently touched his chest. Isaac could feel her thin fingers pressing like needles against his skin.
“I won't say much, but we've missed you. We've come a long way to be here and we wouldn't want to miss out would we?”
Isaac could feel a dizziness fall over him. His head wobbled. His body fought to stay awake, but the lack of oxygen overtook him. As his eyes rolled back he saw a smoky creature standing behind Zinn. It was looking down at him and he could feel images flooding his mind, pictures of men and women and places he didn't know. They felt forced into his mind, pressed through his gray matter like an auger. They fell away out of sight and into a tiny distant world as his mind drifted into blackness.
Strength in Numbers
Lazarus stood leaning against a concrete column underneath the wooden overhang overlooking the dwindling crowds that bustled around Pike's Place Market. A chill had moved through the air as a steady drizzle rained down over the corner. His free hand rubbed the stubble on his chin that had grown out over the course of the day.
Across the market, an old Chinese woman slowly meandered through the dying crowds holding out bundles of droopy yellow and orange flowers. Customers flowed by gently waving off the woman's advances. Lazarus made accidental eye contact and the woman drifted his way like an evening moth to a flame.