by Donnie Light
Galen gently bit his bottom lip while taking in what Paxon was telling him.
Paxon could feel Galen’s tension and apprehension on the other end of the line. “Galen, nobody knows what will happen,” he said. “We’re just going to have to give it a try and hope for the best. If it doesn’t work, we’ll have to think of something else.” Paxon hoped that his last statement sounded authentic. By letting him know there were no guarantees he hoped it would sound more believable.
“I have no other options,” Galen said. “I hope it works.”
“Same here,” Paxon said.
Galen exhaled loudly, “Well, I guess we’ll see you in about three, maybe four hours.”
“Okay, Galen,” Paxon said. “Be careful on the way.”
“Will do, John,” Galen said. “And John, thanks for all your help.”
“Anytime, Galen, anytime.”
Galen hung up the phone with a puzzled look on his face. He would have felt better if Paxon said he had a way to crush the thing, to physically stop the crazy ball. This bit about spells and curses left Galen feeling flustered. He wanted to see it obliterated, to actually see it die. He wanted to sweep its remains into a can and enjoy crushing it to powder, watching it blow away with the breeze, never to haunt another living soul. If Paxon thought it could be stopped otherwise, he would be forced to go along with it. After all, Galen had a new outlook on many things since he had learned about the Eater of Hearts. As crazy as it sounded, if this thing was started by a curse, why did he find it hard to believe that it could also be stopped by a counter-curse? The thing was real, of that he had no doubt.
Galen drove the remaining distance. Audra read the map and Paxon’s instructions to the farmhouse. They found it with little difficulty.
They traveled for miles down red-clay roads, soft and a bit slick from a recent rain. They watched the woods change to farmland and back to woods as they approached the house.
The house was a large two-story structure with peeling white paint on all of its surfaces. The roof was a complex design of many angles clad in tin instead of conventional shingles.
They drove down the weed-choked driveway and saw a car parked behind the house. Assuming it was Paxon’s, they parked beside it. As Galen and Audra stepped out of the car they heard the screech of the old screen door as it swung open. A man of average height and bland looks stood in the doorway.
“Galen?” the man asked.
“John?” Galen said as he habitually stuck out his right hand.
The two shook hands and Audra joined them on the dilapidated porch.
Audra disliked him from the moment she first laid eyes on him. His facial features looked red and swollen. Small veins in his nose showed through his thin skin, running in tiny patterns that joined similar patterns on his cheeks. The man looked ill and his eyes looked like two bullet holes in an old tin can. He lead them into the house which looked much better on the inside than on the outside. “I’m sorry to have made you meet me way out here,” Paxon said. “The place has seen better times.”
“It’s a unique house,” Audra said, looking around. The high ceilings and wide wood trim indicated it had been built over a hundred years ago. The first floor was laden with doors and hallways shot through the house as if designed by an explosion. “My grandfather built the house in 1884,” Paxon said. “It’s been vacant for over a year.” He looked around the house. “It’s a shame.”
A few worn-out furniture remnants littered the large sitting room. The former tenants must have felt they were not worth the time or effort to move. A card table and three chairs sat in the center of the house in what had been the dinning room during Paxon’s childhood. They looked oddly out of place, surrounded by the antiquity of the house.
“I trust you brought Gaston’s files concerning this thing?” Paxon asked as he motioned them to sit at the card table.
Galen looked at Audra. “They’re still in the car,” he said. “I’ll get them.”
“Very good,” Paxon said. “We’ll need to go over some of his writings to collaborate my findings.”
Galen got up and disappeared through one of the many doorways. The house made Audra feel a bit claustrophobic. Instead of being a large, open house, it was maze-like; every room connected by a swinging door instead of open doorways or arches. From the dinning room in which they sat, one wall opened up to a sitting room, another to the kitchen. Two doors were on her right, both closed, that went to parts unknown. A fourth door went to another hallway. It was too tight, too closed up; it seemed to squeeze her.
Galen returned and dropped the ample stack of papers onto the card table.
“My,” Paxon said, “there’s a lot more here than I had anticipated.”
Audra and Galen took the obvious gleeful tone in his voice to mean that he was happy he had so much information with which to help them. His face widened in a grin. “My old friend spent many hours on this subject, I see.”
Audra began to tell Paxon what she had learned while reading the papers. “Al left some notes on his computer that said he had bought the object from the wife of the last living relative of Benjamin Richards. The object was passed down through the generations, but really held no meaning to her. Al had learned through his research that after the slave catchers found the runaway slave, they set their hounds on finding Richards. He had also gone missing, and they found him dead with this object embedded in his chest.”
Paxon barely heard Audra as she spoke and began to glance through the papers, picking out highlights from each. “It looks to be very well done,” he said, the broad grin returning. Yes, this will work nicely! he thought, shuffling through the papers. He would now carry out his plan and set the first part into motion.
“How much of this have you read through?” Paxon asked, looking at both of his visitors.
“Audra has read a lot more than I have,” Galen said. “She told me the core of the story about Tobias, the slave, and the ceremony.”
Audra nodded her head, “I’ve read through a lot of the interviews that Al did while he was down here and some of his thoughts about the Eater of Hearts. I focused mostly on his research notes instead of the novel. I was hoping I would find the most useful information in his notes.”
“Did he mention anywhere in here about a way to stop it?” Paxon asked.
“If he did, I haven’t read it yet,” Audra answered. For some reason she felt she should not tell Paxon anything. She offered only what he specifically asked for and no more. If she felt the information she could offer would help Galen, she would have spoken up in a heartbeat. Paxon struck her as a con man. She could not figure out why Gaston had ever wanted him to have the thing in the first place.
Paxon pointed out the several books he had brought from the college, more for show than anything else. He had barely glanced through them before his friendly bottle of whiskey had pulled him away.
“I’ve poured through these volumes,” Paxon lied, “and have found a few interesting passages that may be useful.”
He handed one of the books to Galen. Galen reached for it and Paxon saw the bandages on his hand. “What happened?” he asked. Galen explained the episode to Paxon, whose eyes lit up with belief. After completing the story, Galen sat down and looked through the book about West African religions.
Audra remained at the card table reading through some of the files.
Paxon was searching his mind for something he could ask Galen to do, something that would get him out of the house, if only for a few minutes. Then he would deal with the girl. Taking care of them one at a time would be much easier. Before he could think of anything, Galen thought of something for him, virtually volunteering himself for the job.
“You didn’t bring any food by chance?” Galen asked. “I’m hungry.”
“No, I’m afraid that slipped my mind,” Paxon responded.
“Maybe we could run into town and bring something back,” Galen said, looking at Audra.
Paxon p
anicked slightly, thinking they both might leave, but quickly responded with an idea. “Audra and I can stay here and go over these files. It’s very important that I try to find a passage that deals with stopping this thing and see if it agrees with what I’ve found elsewhere.”
Audra wanted to go with Galen but staying would be of more help. She still did not trust this man but did not want to offend him if he could stop the ball-thing. She looked to Galen, who nodded and asked what he should get to eat.
After deciding on cold cuts and sandwich fixings, Galen got directions to the nearest store. He gave Audra a quick kiss on the cheek and left the house. She heard the Mustang’s engine roar to life and saw the car cruise past the house.
Paxon continued to read the files, seemingly paying no attention to Audra. She read through the files, setting aside things she had already read, looking for new information. The house still gave Audra the creeps but she tried to ignore the feeling.
Paxon got up and walked across the room. He bent over and began to shuffle through a box that sat on the floor. “Finding anything interesting, Audra?” Paxon asked, pulling the gun from the box.
“Not yet,” Audra replied, paying little attention to him.
“I have,” he said.
Audra turned to see what he meant and found herself looking down the wrong end of a gun barrel. Her face dropped its color and her mouth stood agape.
“Get up,” Paxon said.
Audra stood up and lifted her arms over her head without being asked. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Making a better life for myself, dear,” Paxon said with a smile. “Now, be a good girl and come over here and sit down.” He indicated a spot on the floor in front of an old-fashioned heat radiator. He kicked the box over to where she was sitting and used the wire-ties to attach her wrists together behind her back. He then tied her to the heavy, cast-iron radiator.
“What are you doing?” Audra continued to ask, now helplessly bound to the radiator.
Paxon pulled a roll of duct tape from the box and tore off a six-inch strip. He placed it over her mouth as she struggled to free herself.
“Much better,” Paxon said. “The quiet is so peaceful out here, don’t you agree?”
Audra continued to struggle; the thin nylon strips around her wrists were biting into her skin. They were impossibly strong and the more she struggled, the more painful it became.
Paxon came near her, intent on putting another wire-tie on her ankles. She kicked at him the best she could but he sat on her legs, pinning them tightly to the floor. He strapped the wire-tie to her ankles, pulling it painfully tight.
“That should do for a while,” Paxon said. “And you’re such a pretty girl. What a shame.”
He reached down and stroked her face gently with the back of his liver-spotted hand. The feeling he had over her at that moment was intense. Such power. He could do anything he wanted to her and no one would ever know. Evil, vile thoughts ran through his mind, thoughts he had never had before. The power he felt made him feel invulnerable. Anything I want! He reached down and cupped her breast in his hand. He smiled.
Audra gasped. With her mouth taped closed she couldn’t seem to draw enough breath through her flaring nostrils. She tried to calm herself, keeping her thoughts on Galen, who would soon return. She felt both relieved and scared of that thought. Relieved that maybe he could help her, and frightened that he too, may get caught by this crazy man.
Paxon moved his hand from Audra’s breast and moved it over the tight jeans on her legs. Although Audra did not know it, Paxon’s vile thoughts were all that kept her alive at that moment. He wanted her and would keep her alive for only one purpose. His purpose.
Paxon controlled his urges, knowing he had more to do before he could have his way with the girl. Galen would be coming back soon and he would have to take care of him, too. Then there would be waiting. Waiting for the thing. The Eater of Hearts.
Paxon was excited by the thought of seeing the Eater of Hearts. Few men would ever witness such an event. He went over to his box and pulled out his friend. The amber liquid sang to him, its beautiful voice calling him. I’m here John, just like always. I’m here for you. He felt the warm liquor splash against the back of his throat. He was relieved. The tension in his muscles relaxed and John Paxon felt strong, felt powerful.
Audra had calmed herself down fearing she would suffocate if she didn’t. She consciously willed herself to slow her breathing in an attempt to calm her nerves. She sat against the radiator and watched Paxon make love to the bottle.
Paxon took his bottle to another room. He looked out the front window toward the road, waiting for Galen. He sipped cautiously, controlling himself.
After a few moments, the Mustang turned off the road and rolled quietly toward the house.
Paxon met Galen at the back door. He held the gun behind his back, waiting for just the right moment.
Galen entered the back door with a large grocery bag in one arm and a six-pack of Pepsi dangling from the fingers on his injured left hand.
“I trust you found everything you were looking for?” Paxon said.
“Yeah, no problem,” Galen said. “I hope you like roast beef and ched-.” His sentence was snapped off in midstream when he saw the hideous grin on Paxon’s face and the gun pointing toward him. “Paxon, what the Hell…” His thoughts quickly turned in another direction. “Where’s Audra?” he asked, his voice hard edged with both fear and anger.
“Oh, she’s quite alright,” Paxon said. “Now listen to me very carefully. Put your hands behind you and lean over the counter.”
“What the Hell are you doing, Paxon?” Galen asked.
“Just do it!” Paxon shouted. The gun quivered slightly in his grip. “I’ll explain everything to you later. Lean over the counter, now!”
Galen thought about rushing the crazy man but decided he did not have much of a chance. A bullet was a lot faster than he was and there was about twelve feet between him and Paxon. Galen leaned over the counter with his hands behind his back.
Paxon walked cautiously toward him, keeping the gun pointed at Galen’s head. Paxon took one of the wire-ties and fumbled with one hand to tighten it around his wrists. He gave it a sharp pull. Galen winced at the sudden pain and Paxon backed away.
“Okay, now turn around,” Paxon said. He would not feel comfortable until he had Galen tied to one of the radiators like Audra. He marched Galen into the other room where Audra sat crying.
Audra had tears in her eyes; sorry she had been unable to warn Galen before he got into the house.
Paxon told Galen to sit down in front of a radiator at the opposite end of the room. Galen complied, his mind furiously racing to find a way out of this mess and wondering what had gone wrong.
Paxon slipped the rope over Galen’s head. With Galen sitting down and his hands tied behind his back, Paxon sat the gun on the floor and quickly tightened the rope. He then made a couple of passes around Galen’s body with the rope and tied off the end in a good, strong knot.
“There,” Paxon said. He brushed his hands together and picked up the gun. He walked back to the card table and pulled up a chair. He took a long swallow; his way of rewarding himself for a job well done.
Galen looked at Audra, her eyes red, her face wet and that obscene piece of tape censoring her mouth. He looked back to Paxon who sat comfortably in a folding chair, taking another sip.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Galen asked.
“I am doing the only thing I’m fairly certain will work,” Paxon said smugly.
“I want to talk to Audra,” Galen said. His voice sounded as mean as the growl of a Rotweiler.
“Poor thing,” Paxon said. “I couldn’t let her warn you, could I?”
He walked over to Audra and reached for the tape. “It really won’t make a difference if you scream,” Paxon told her. “Nobody will hear you. I just don’t want to hear it myself. So if you scream, the tape goes back o
n. If not, I will enjoy the company while we wait for the Eater to come and do its job.” He peeled up a corner of the tape and began to pull it off. Audra’s lips stretched crazily as he pulled it off, distorting her face as if seeing it in a fun-house mirror.
She drew the first long breath she had had in over an hour and then said, “Galen, I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Galen said. “Are you okay?”
Audra nodded and looked over to Paxon. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Well, where do I start?” Paxon said. He tapped his fingers on his lips and studied the ceiling. “Your friend, Albert Gaston, and I worked together years ago.”
Audra and Galen listened to the man ramble on, both trying to secretly loosen their bindings.
“He was a very brilliant man. After a while though, it seemed everything was handed to him on a silver platter. Everything he wrote caused a sensation. His books were adopted as textbooks in most schools and his novels rocketed to the top of best-seller lists. His academic papers were praised.” Paxon became quiet for a moment, his eyes full of envy. “He was a gifted man.”
Paxon reached over and picked up Gaston’s files. “And these words of his will lead me to the same type of success. It will be my start. I can take it from here on my own.”
“So you plan to steal his work and put your name on it,” Galen said.
“Precisely,” Paxon said.
Galen began to laugh.
Audra looked at him as if he were the crazy one.
“I’m glad you find humor in that Mr. Morris,” Paxon said. “It warms my heart to know you can leave this world in such good spirits.”
“It’s not that I find it funny,” Galen said. “I laugh because you sound like a man who thinks he’ll live happily ever after. What will you do after that? How will you live with yourself, knowing you sacrificed two lives for a book? You’re still gonna be the same failure that you are now, only worse. You’ll be a murderer and a failure; a thief and an alcoholic.”