Daddy Long Legs

by Vernon W. Baumann

  Kyle waited with bated breath. Inside him a vicious tug-of-war erupted. A conflicting spectrum of opposing desires. Hoping that it was Human that had fired the shot. Hoping that it was his brother. Hoping that Human would appear and rescue them. Hoping his brother was alive. And uninjured.

  However, only when Ryan Devlin descended the wooden staircase did Kyle instantly understand the exact nature of his internal struggle. As he watched his brother approach, he felt himself deflate. The world leered at him darkly. And his spirits sank into a bottomless pit.

  So much for the good guys.

  Ryan stood before Kyle. ‘Don’t worry, big brother. I took good care of your detective. I don’t know if he has a big head, but I guarantee you it’s much smaller now.’

  Kyle’s head lolled forward. He whimpered softly. ‘Why, Ryan? Why?’

  Ryan charged forward. ‘Why? Why? WHY?’ He laughed. A piercing howl in the awful silence following the gunshot. ‘You know what? That’s exactly what she asked as well. Why?’

  Kyle looked at his brother without understanding. For a moment the two brothers stared at each other. Mere metres apart. Yet separated by twenty years. A huge insuperable gulf that loomed between them. A void, populated by unnameable demons. A road that forked in the forest. Never to be reconciled. And yet.

  ‘Jesus, Ryan. I missed you so. I thought of you every day. Every single day. You were my brother. And my best friend.’ Tears welled up in Kyle’s eyes again. Ryan stood facing his brother, a blank expression on his face. And yet. Kyle sensed something in his brother’s eyes. A connection. Something that had remained unsullied by his sordid life of torment. A little boy. Of eleven. Who loved his big brother more than anything in the world. ‘I lost so much that day,’ Kyle continued. ‘You must believe me. My whole world changed. And I was never the same.’ Kyle pushed against his bonds. ‘Ryan, if I could go back. And change what happened that day. I would give everything I have. Everything I achieved. I would give everything to go back and keep you safe, just like I promised.’

  ‘It’s just a tad late for that, dear brother,’ Ryan said coldly.

  Kyle continued, ignoring the arctic tone of Ryan’s voice. ‘Ryan, it’s not too late. You’ve come back. You’ve come back to me.’ Once again, tears flowed freely. ‘We can be together again. I know ... I know you’ve done some ... some terrible things. But ... but we can fix it, Ryan. You can get some help. We can get you some help. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal. The authorities must understand. They must! They must! I will spend every single cent I have to get you help, Ryan. I will spend everything I have to make sure you don’t go to ... I will make sure you go to a proper place. Where you can get help. They must understand.’ Kyle was now howling through a torrent of tears. Desperate to try and regain his lost brother. ‘Ryan, the most important thing. The most important thing in the world is that you’re back. My brother has come back. And I will do everything ... anything ... to help you.’

  ‘You can help me?’ Ryan’s face was cast down; the words a mere whisper.

  ‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Kyle cried desperately, hoping beyond hope that he was getting through to his brother. ‘Yes, I can help you.’

  ‘You can help me?’ The words – the tone – were an exact facsimile of before. Except there was now something ominous beneath. ‘You can help me.’ This time it was a statement, not a question. Ryan lifted his head slowly. ‘You can help me?’ Kyle nodded. In vain. And sobbed. Knowing he had lost his brother. Forever. ‘YOU CAN FUCKING HELP ME?!?’ Ryan jumped forward and smacked his brother across the face. One. Two. Three. Four. Kyle recoiled against the pillar, trying desperately to escape the violent barrage. Blood flowed in twin rivers from his nose. ‘You can help me? Oh really? Now that is rich.’ Ryan’s face contorted into a hideous parody of a late night talk-show host. Kyle sobbed quietly. Once again. Mourning the loss of his brother. Twice in twenty years. Twice in a lifetime. Twice too much. ‘Tell me, Mr Devlin, where were you when I really needed your help? Huh?!?’ Ryan paced in front of Kyle, punctuating words while rotating stiffly on his heels. To Kyle he looked like a twisted imitation of an SS officer, lambasting his troops. ‘Where were you when that sick bastard stole me from the world? Where were you when he forced me to be his son. His fucking companion. HIS SICK FUCKING RENT BOY? HUH? KYLE? HUH? WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU.’ He stopped in front of Kyle. ‘Why didn’t you help me then?’ Kyle stared limply at the concrete floor. Feeling a deep yawning loss greater than anything he had ever experienced. ‘Huh? And where were you when that diseased thing we called our mother made me her lover?’ Kyle’s head whipped up. ‘Yes. Yes. Yes! She did. And you know she did. She did. And you know she did, Kyle. Night after night. Day after day. Her special son. Her favourite son. Her little sick secret lover.’ Ryan leaned forward. ‘Where were you, Kyle? You were right there. But you were a million miles away. I remember that night, Kyle. Why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you say anything?’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Ryan. I’m so terribly sorry. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know what to –’

  ‘You didn’t know what, Kyle? You didn’t know what to do?’ He smiled with cold menace. ‘Well, don’t worry, Kyle. I knew what to do. And I did it. When the time came ... she paid for it.’ Kyle looked at Ryan with dark incomprehension. ‘In the end, she paid for it. We all do, Kyle.’ Ryan chuckled. A wet box of matches in the musty silence of the basement. ‘When the end came, she knew. She knew what she was paying for.’

  ‘Shit, Ryan. What are you saying? Don’t tell me you –’

  ***

  Darkness.

  And pain.

  A searing numbing pain that reached into the heights of heaven. And into the depths of hell.

  Darkness. And pain. All around.

  A looming heavy wooden door. Impossibly large. On one side, a pretty girl with a green polka dot skirt and quaint green wedge shoes. On the other, an impotent serial killer, a leering grin on his black face. He beckons to the dying detective. Through the keyhole, a bright light explodes. Stinging his eyes. His dying eyes.

  Human stood above himself. And looked down at his bloodied body.

  He

  (don’t)

  took a step forward.

  (don’t)

  With heavy leaden

  (don’t)

  legs

  (give up)

  he took another step. Forward.

  (Blackberry)

  And another.

  (the Blackberry)

  And

  (don’t give up)

  another.

  The Blackberry! The Blackberry!

  Through a thick sludge. Moving through a wall of darkness. He sank back into the pain. Back into himself.

  The Blackberry! The Blackberry!

  He had forgotten all about the Blackberry.

  This was going to be hard. So hard.

  The left side of his body felt dead. And alive at the same time. Alive with excruciating pain. With unbearable slowness. With unbearable pain. He reached into his jacket pocket. And slid out the little smart phone. With numb dead fingers. With only one eye. Barely open. He navigated through the phone. And slowly. One tortured letter at a time. He typed a message. A simple message. An address only. And one word.

  HELP.

  Then send.

  With failing strength. He typed in Lerato’s number. As the darkness overcame him yet again. He tried to press the send. But his strength was gone. And the darkness too swift.

  As detective Wayne Human’s head fell back against the cold linoleum floor. He knew that he had failed.

  ***

  ‘You should have seen her eyes, Kyle. When she saw me. You should have seen the expression in the old hag’s face.’ Ryan laughed with glee. A desperate child. Trapped in a deviant’s body. ‘She thought it was a dream, Kyle. She thought I was a vision. That day I turned up on her doorstep.’ Anger boiled to the surface of his contorted face. ‘She actually had the audacity to feel joy. Can you believe i
t, Kyle? Can you believe it? How dare she? How dare she be happy to see me? Didn’t she know? Didn’t she know what I had come to do?’

  ‘How could you, Ryan? She was our mother. How could you?’ Kyle spoke meekly, almost to himself.

  ‘Yes, you should have seen her face, Kyle. She thought it was Christmas.’ He laughed. Long and hard. Eerie and distant. ‘Oh, but she didn’t feel that way for long. Oh no. She soon realised why I was there.’ Ryan walked up to Kyle. ‘You know what her last words were, Kyle? Huh?’ Ryan looked at his brother, hanging limply against the ropes that bound him. His head hanging forward. ‘She said, “Why are you doing this?”. Yeah. That’s exactly what she said. Exactly. What kind of question is that? Why? Why? Why?’ He roared. Then spun around. ‘Dumb bitch. DUMB BITCH!’ He stood for a moment. ‘She had to die, Kyle. To pay for her sins. But also, to make you come here.’ Kyle whimpered softly. ‘It was the only way to make you come back. And face your sins.’ Ryan paused. ‘I only wish I had been able to do the same for that sick old bastard. Unfortunately his own disease got him first. His black heart finally gave in. Too bad. At least it liberated me. At least his death made me free. Free to fulfil my destiny.’ He turned slowly. ‘Our destiny, Kyle. Our destiny.’ He paused. ‘You see, I’ve been with you for a long time, Kyle. I was there that night you discovered your whore wife was cheating on you. I was the one who sent you those photographs. I had to get her out of your life. I had to get you here. In the place of our youth. It was our destiny, Kyle. It’s always been.’

  Kyle slowly raised his head. ‘I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m sorry for everything. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Don’t worry, dear brother. Don’t beat yourself up. You will soon make up for everything. Very soon.’

  Within Kyle, something clicked. Something turned. And died. And in its place, something else was born. Resignation. Acceptance. ‘I understand. You’re right. It has to be this way.’

  On Ryan’s face, an unexpected emotion flared. Surprise? Annoyance? Disappointment? ‘What?’

  ‘I accept. And I agree. Once upon a time, our destinies were bound together. It’s only right that now ... it must be this way too.’ Ryan’s left eye started twitching uncontrollably. ‘All I ask, is that you release the boy. He has nothing to do with this. Nothing at all. This is between you and I. It has always been. Just you and I. Let him go.’

  ‘No. No! No!’ Ryan jumped up and down. ‘It involves all of us. You and me. Him. This entire town. Everybody.’ He ran up to the cage and began shaking it violently. Inside, the boy began screaming hysterically. ‘Don’t you see? I have too much. There’s too much darkness. I have to share it. With everybody. I have to make everyone see what I see. That is my destiny, Kyle. I ... HAVE ... TO ... MAKE ... EVERYONE ... SEE ... WHAT I SEE!’ For a moment, Ryan leaned against the cage, heaving with exertion. Inside, the boy shoved himself into the opposite corner. Seconds passed. Ryan slowly rose. ‘It’s time, Kyle. It’s time.’ He strode heavily past Kyle. In a corner behind him, Kyle heard the scrape of plastic against concrete. Moments later, Ryan returned, carrying two large plastic containers. He plopped both down at Kyle’s feet. And began twisting open the cap of the container nearest Kyle. The sharp odour of petrol assailed Kyle’s nostrils. Black fear blossomed within him. ‘It’s time, Kyle. It’s time to fulfil our destinies. It’s time to bring to an end what began on that river bank, more than twenty years ago.’ He lifted the heavy container and upended it over Kyle’s head. The petrol spurted from the opening. And washed over Kyle. The acrid liquid stung his eyes, his face. Drenched him in corrosive intensity. The wound at the back of his head stung with unbelievable ferocity. Kyle clenched his eyes tightly shut, but the liquid forced its way through his eyelids.

  ‘Ryan, don’t do this. Please don’t do this,’ Kyle whispered fiercely, sputtering through the petrol. In the corner the child began crying again. He screamed as he clutched the bars of his cage. ‘Don’t do this.’

  Ryan walked towards the child in the corner. He poured the remainder of the stark liquid over the boy who was frantically falling about in the cage. ‘It’s time, Kyle. It’s time to end it all. To end what began long before I disappeared into that hellhole.’ In the cage, the boy was screaming with mounting hysteria. He desperately tried to flick the petrol from his body. Ryan walked towards the remaining container. He twisted off the cap. Lifted the container above his head. And soaked himself in petrol. ‘You see, Kyle, I was broken ... and damaged long before that autumn day when you abandoned me.’ Despite the burning liquid, Ryan kept his eyes open and continued talking. Oblivious to the searing petrol. ‘I never had a chance, Kyle. I never ever stood a chance. I was fucked, from day one.’ While he continued talking, Ryan criss-crossed the concrete floor, pouring petrol wherever he went. Kyle frantically shook his head, trying to clear the petrol from his stinging eyes. ‘All I ever wanted to do was to make the world a better place.’ He threw the empty container into a corner. ‘Well, so much for that.’ Through half-clenched eyes, Kyle watched Ryan lift a cigarette lighter into the air. ‘If I can’t make the world a better place ... well then, I’ll make it ... a hotter place.’

  ‘JESUS, RYAN. DON’T!’ Kyle fought against the ropes restricted him. He screamed with terrified desperation. ‘DON’T DO IT!’

  Ryan lifted the lighter higher into the air. ‘Goodbye, dear brother.’

  ‘RYAN!!’

  Ryan lifted his thumb into the air. And brought it down onto the spark wheel.

  Someone screamed.

  What happened next was straight out of a dream.

  The end

  Lerato got the message just outside Hope.

  She had been conducting additional interviews in Orania. Because of the town’s implicit hostility towards her black skin, she had needed to be accompanied by two white male colleagues. And although she had been burning to make a breakthrough, she had been forced to remain in the background while the two white detectives conducted interviews at her prompting. If she hadn’t been a police officer, she wouldn’t have been welcome in Orania at all.

  Then Botha had called one of the male detectives. Human was onto something. The computer unit got a hit on the Facebook lead. They needed to get back to the little town as soon as possible. As the three detectives jumped into the unmarked police car, Lerato wondered why Human hadn’t contacted her personally. She got her answer just outside Hope when an SMS alerted her to a voicemail. Somewhere, on the road to Hope, in an area of poor cellular reception, Human had tried to call her. And he had given her the address.

  Rushing back to the police station, she and detective Botha had assembled a quick incursion team. Each member donning a Kevlar bullet-proof vest. This time around, there was no time to wait for the STF team. They had to go at it alone. Clambering into three waiting cars, the team had rushed off the address that Human had provided in the voicemail.

  The convoy pulled up just short of the Fifth Avenue address. And using classic tactical manoeuvres , they stormed the house.

  Just to find a terrified family inside, cowering against the onslaught of a dozen detectives, armed to the teeth. Confused and frustrated, the group of detectives had gathered outside. Feeling sheepish. Confused.

  That’s when Lerato received the odd text message. With a mangled address.

  54 5t avnu.

  And the single word.

  HELP.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she said pointing into the distance. ‘He’s in that house. Over there!’

  The address was just a few houses down. Leaving the cars behind, the team sprinted to the house. This time they were more careful. And acted with greater circumspection. They were going to go in quiet. Via the back. Just as Human had.

  Lerato was the fourth detective through the back door. When she reached the hallway, she stopped suddenly.

  Petrol!

  Dear God, what was going on?

  Carefully tracing back her steps, she scanned the kitchen counters until she found what she was looking for.<
br />
  Up ahead, in the long hallway, there was a commotion.

  Lerato rushed forward, ignoring the creaking floor. And joined a group of detectives, crouching around a prostrate figure.

  Her heart exploded into a million icy shards.

  It was Human. And he was lying in a pool of spreading blood. Badly wounded.

  Lerato broke through the cordon of men. And crouched over him, hot tears burning her eyes. Her heart thudding painfully against her chest. ‘Oh my God, Wayne. Oh my darling. Oh my darling.’ She gently cradled his head and planted wet salty kisses on his forehead. ‘Quickly,’ she hissed at a detective, ‘go outside and phone an ambulance. Go!’ The detective scurried along the hallway and through the kitchen. She gently stroked the side of his face unblemished by blood. ‘Please don’t die, my darling. Please don’t die.’ Several of the detectives looked at her with an odd expression. But she was totally unaware. Engrossed in Human’s suffering. ‘I love you. Please don’t die.’

  And then he moved. And groaned. Lerato held her ear to his mouth. ‘Go,’ he whispered, so softly she almost imagined she heard it. ‘Go,’ he repeated. ‘Basement. Go.’

  For an excruciating moment, Lerato stared at the man she had come to love. Torn between her feelings for him. And her duties as a police officer. She stroked his forehead. And looked at the group of men around her. ‘Let’s go,’ she said softly. ‘Basement.’ Reluctantly she let go of Human and rose quietly. Quickly following on the heels of the policemen before her.

  Not a moment too soon.

  In a large closet space, they found the entrance to the basement below. Beneath they could hear voices. And screams.

  There was not a moment to waste. The advance group stormed down the stairs. With Lerato hot on their heels.

  She jumped down into the basement space. She had only a split second. To register the bizarre scene before her. Before disaster erupted.

  Kyle Devlin. Tied to a pillar. The Joemat boy, screaming and ranting in an iron cage. And a strange man. Standing in the middle of the room. A lighter in his hand.