The Mark (Weeping Willow Book 2)

by Steven Evans

  I heard the Sheriff’s raspy voice calling out, “You almost done in there?”

  “Yeah, why don’t you try pulling pants on over broken and torn flesh? It’s not as easy as you might think.”

  “Oh, the poor little city boy! See… kick the snot out of someone, and they begin to understand how things work here. Get back on the cot, so I can bring some food in!”

  The Sheriff walks arrogantly into the cell and drops a wooden bowl in the floor. Some oatmeal looking mess sloshes over the side and drips unceremoniously to the ground.

  “Food! You call this food? I’ve seen animals fed better than this.”

  With eyes bloodshot and bulging, much like the veins in his forehead, he said, “You’re lower than an animal. You don’t deserve to be treated any better.”

  Changing the subject a bit, I said, “So, I’m getting my day in court, huh?”

  He shrugged, “Well, it wasn’t my decision, but yeah, you get to say your peace. Don’t think it’s gonna change the outcome, but, hey, give it your best shot.”

  “That’s some real forward thinking, Sheriff. You’re a man of progress, aren’t ya?”

  “I am…” he snickered, “I’m a man of the people. I’m a man built on justice, enforcing the laws I’ve sworn to uphold.”

  “Then you can be extremely proud of how you’ve handled me, can’t you?”

  “Shut the Hell up before I change my mind on letting you appear at your own excommunication party, hahaha.”

  He turned and walked out the door of the jail and leaned on a post. I had the perfect comeback lined up, but I noticed a shadow lurking by the window. I slowly moved closer to try to see who was outside.

  I whispered, “Who’s there?”

  “Shhh…” was the only reply I heard.

  “Who is this? Why are you here?”

  “Look, keep quiet and listen!”

  It was James, and he was unusually fidgety. He couldn’t stand still. I was afraid that the dust cloud his pacing was causing would bring unwanted attention, but this being James, I knew that telling him to calm down would be useless.

  His odd behavior was even more off-putting than it had ever been. He kept staring off into the darkness like he was waiting for someone to show up or for some signal that something was about to happen. He never stopped moving and was constantly pulling at his hair. His actions made me nervous, but I was too worried about what he was looking at to say anything. Finally, he just stopped.

  “Mister, you have to forget about confronting them tonight! Just go in there and beg! Beg for forgiveness! Beg for understanding! Use the loss of your family as an excuse for your contempt of their ways! You must not get them riled up! They’re gonna listen to you and even nod their heads, like they know what you’re talking about, but none of it matters. You are going to die tonight! You will die if you don’t beg and plead for forgiveness! Just promise me you’ll leave the rest alone for now-- only for now! Please! Please, promise me!”

  “James, I have to def…”

  It was no use; he disappeared into the shadows he loved so much. I was left to wonder why he had suddenly changed his mind on confronting the whack jobs in this town. He must have had a reason, and the boy had been the only one trying to help me since I came here. So maybe I should listen to him this one time.

  My concentration on this new aggravating turn of events was broken by the Sheriff steadily kicking the bars on the cell.

  “Well, are you ready, boy?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Come on, let’s go,” he sneered. “No choice, no other choice, no other options. Your time is now!”

  Trying to make him smile, or at least laugh, I said, “Cinderella is going to the ball without a dress, and I didn’t even get my hair done. Hope people won’t gossip too much.”

  He showed no reaction at all as he looked at me and said, “Am I gonna have any trouble from you? If not, then I may even leave the shackles off for the ride to the courthouse.”

  “No trouble from me, Sheriff; I’m a changed man. I’ve seen the light, and it shone brightly on the errors of my ways. With a little assistance from the heels of your boots, I’m ready to join the flock and be a productive member of the community. I understand now: resistance is futile!”

  It was all I could do to mask the mockingly deceitful grin that was now gracing my blood-stained teeth. I could feel my lips nearly splitting as the crimson hued substance trickled down my jaw, but the pain had become my confidant, and all my secrets were whispered into the night. The Sheriff had been too preoccupied with rehearsing for his grand entrance at the gala tonight to notice that the fork was missing from my dinner plate. I now had a plan! I had a way of maybe taking control, if the opportunity arose.

  The car ride was uneventful, except that there were apparently minivan size potholes that lived on the roads between the jail and the courthouse. Though I did notice a small pile of wood being stacked in the center of town, and that vision stayed with me as we entered the courthouse. It was standing room only.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Not as Planned

  I looked around as we walked the narrow aisles and saw that every single member of the community was there to witness this spectacle. But, strangely, the people on the back row didn’t seem to fit in. Their skin was a pale grayish color, and their lips and fingertips were a deep purple. They sat there unfazed by what was playing out around them, just staring aimlessly into space. Gertrude was watching over them. Although her demeanor had always seemed the same to me, now she looked like a defeated mother hen gathering her baby chicks around her while the fox circled the coop. There was a weird glow vibrating from their chests, and somehow, I felt drawn to them.

  Up front by the podium, I saw Mr. Harte and Mr. Allen huddled together, no doubt going over their victory speech. They never looked up or acknowledged my arrival. Not a single eye was fixed in place in all the faces of the people. Their gaze held captive by the outsider now being led down the rows to a certain doom. I glanced to the podium again, and… wait… that was Adder! What was he doing here? Why was he joining the little fat bastard in his group?

  No one said a word as the Sheriff led me to the witness stand and pointed for me to sit. The people were still gossiping joyously as Mr. Harte took his place behind the podium.

  He held up his arms, then lowered and raised them quickly in a repetitive motion, trying to quiet the crowd.

  “My flock, we are once again gathered here in this sacred place to determine the fate of an outsider. An outsider, who, regardless of the help given to him, has constantly spit on our way of life! He was warned numerous times, and yet each time, he ignored the generous advice offered by the good and decent members of this community! Now, we know his situation, but I recommend that we don’t let our emotions take charge of our faculties, so that we can render a fair and just judgment against this man.”

  The crowd exploded into a raucous cheer. The murmurs subsided after a few minutes, and Mr. Harte was allowed to continue.

  “My people, we have been here before. Unfortunately, too many times have we been here. Sadly, we find ourselves in need of salvation. This man has, at every turn, ignored our standards. He has brought dissention to our fellow members, especially to one of us, who is young and unable to distinguish true intentions. James is not to be blamed for this man’s continuous disrespect, but hopefully, we can turn him back to the way without the Sheriff’s discipline. Now I turn my attention back to the real matter at hand. This man is a danger to our way of life. His questioning of our laws brings confusion and discord to our town. His constant disobedience must be dealt with promptly! His very existence is a threat to our lives, and that needs to be considered in any decision we make here tonight. What say you, my flock?”

  The mob quietly assembled, speaking to those close to them. It took only a few minutes for them to answer in unison.

  “We the people say, punish the outsider to the fullest extent our laws al
low!”

  Mr. Harte, with his head bowed, said, “The people have spoken! Is there anyone here among us who will speak up for this man? Is anyone willing to take responsibility for his future actions? Speak now, or forever hold your peace!”

  Adder, with the assistance of the Sheriff and Mr. Allen, stood up and motioned to the people.

  “You all know who I am. You know my credentials and my love of this community. I am the last of the original elders, and my opinion is equal to the law itself. I’m not here to plead for this man’s life. I’m not even here to ask you to give him another chance. What I am here to do is give a full account of the distractions this man has caused. The Sheriff and I took it upon ourselves to try and help this outsider become a member of our town. We tried to lead him to understand the true beauty in our way of life, but alas, we failed. I’m an old man, and my age has hindered my persuasion abilities tremendously, so I feel I must take partial blame for his shortcomings.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. This man, the only one I considered a friend, now has become my greatest enemy. What did I do to deserve his betrayal? He seemed so sincere in trying to help me understand only to use that understanding to now persecute me. He was the only one who acted like he had any common sense in this entire town but, now I see, he’s just as tainted as the others.

  The entire building erupted as everyone yelled that Adder was not to blame and held no fault in the outsider’s predicament.

  Adder continued, “Please, let me finish! We all know his story and how he came to be with us, but his story didn’t begin when he showed up here. He has brought an old evil back to our doorstep, and now we must face her again. This sickness will not go away easily. I say we proceed immediately with his execution.”

  I couldn’t sit there any longer and let these freaks decide my fate. I lunged to my feet and rushed the podium. Mr. Harte was caught still praying-- if that was what he really was doing-- as I grabbed him by his double chins and swung him around. I jammed the broken fork handle into his jugular. He felt the strength in my grip, clutching the fork to his neck, but I only wanted him scared and worried about how far I’d really go. I never planned on hurting him… but, I would if left no alternative.

  “You people are fucking crazy! You have no right to judge me! I’ve seen the atrocities that you perpetrated on each other. I know your sins! If you think I’m just gonna sit here calmly, patiently waiting to let you murder me, then you’re even more insane than I thought.”

  Somehow sensing the Sheriff’s approach, I made eye contact with him. He knew my intent was self-preservation and that I wouldn’t hesitate to end Mr. Harte’s existence.

  I was feeling the exhilaration of being in control as I bellowed, “Oh no, Sheriff, stay where you are! I will gut this fat little bastard and let his insides cover the floor of your sacred house if you take another step towards me! There will be no backwoods justice doled out here tonight. I will not be your next sacrificial lamb in a misbegotten ritual where you believe my death will save you. I am not your enemy! I am not the evil that’s been plaguing your lives for all these centuries. You are all mindless zombies wandering around a purgatory that you created for yourselves. My death will not lighten your sentence in Hell. My blood won’t cleanse your tainted souls!”

  I was fired up and ready to let loose with both barrels when, suddenly, everyone was frozen in place. I could see the sweat dripping off brows and cheeks, but it was being suspended in the air. Then I noticed a musky, almost woodsy aroma being carried in by the wind. At once, all the stained-glass windows burst in a brilliant exhibition, and the door sprung wide open and flew off its hinges, landing between the pews halfway up the aisles. The people, still completely unaware of what was happening, couldn’t react. They only sat there, unable to move.

  Leaves swirled and floated into the building, covering everything in sight. They glided across the floor and headed straight to the front of the building. All light was blotted out for several minutes. As the leaves neared the podium, I thought I could see an image trapped within them, and it stopped every so often, staring directly into the faces of some of the people, before promptly moving forward again. I knew Willow was about to make her presence known, but would it be to my benefit or not?

  The leaves arrived beside Mr. Harte, and instantly Willow was there. She looked over at him and gently kissed his furry cheek. Scanning the room, taking her time to reacquaint herself with the people who had once called her “friend”, Willow began to cry. Her pain was sent out in each tear as the wailing began. Her shrill moaning had a profound effect on everyone trapped in place and stuck in their seats. They all began showing signs of life, and their fear took hold.

  Willow smirked, “So, have my dinner guests missed me?”

  Silence befell the once boisterous crowd, and Mr. Harte tried to run to the aisle.

  Willow’s voice boomed out, “Where do you think you’re going? Did I say you could move? Now that I have your undivided attention, who decided that any of you could decide life or death? Who among you has that right! No one! Only I do. Only I can choose what happens here. You pathetic imbeciles, did you really believe I wouldn’t know what you were trying to do? This man is my personal trophy, and none of you will interfere with my glorious victory. Is that understood? Or should I give a demonstration of my power, so you all remember my vengeance?”

  Mr. Harte, ignoring Willow’s command, once again took his chances and tried to run.

  “I was hoping there’d be a volunteer. It looks like your illustrious leader just raised his hand. Come to me, Mr. Harte!”

  She held out her hand and waited for him to take it. Mr. Harte was overcome with fear. Knowing he had just sealed his own fate, he stood there trembling and slowly twisting his head from side to side.

  Willow’s anger filled the room. Everyone was lifted to the rafters. Their eyes rolled to the back of their heads, and their gasping and choking intensified under her tight grip. Only Mr. Harte and I were free. Her stare was blazing, and the flames in her eyes, like torches, were glaring directly at Mr. Harte. She wiggled her pinky, and he was lifted from the ground. He moved weightlessly through the air until he was right in front of her. Her pinky stilled, and he was dropped at her feet. He immediately started begging for forgiveness, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

  “You are supposed to be the leader! It’s no wonder these people are so lost and unruly. You leave much to be desired, Mr. Harte. I’m disappointed in you, so you will serve as my example to your flock.”

  She cut her eyes over to the people still held captive on the ceiling and clenched her fist. They all returned safely to their seats.

  She cleared her throat and said, “Now, get comfortable! The show is about to start. I promise, you won’t want to miss this. Wait, you have no choice…hahaha!” She pointed at Mr. Harte, and he hopped up and stood before her.

  She said, “Remember that little slave dance the Sheriff did for Adder? Do it for me now! Bear in mind, this could save your worthless life and allow you to continue your pathetic existence! So, make it good, fat man!”

  He immediately began his song and dance. I could see exhaustion taking him by surprise as he fell, completely spent of energy.

  She scowled at him, “Is that all your life is worth? Only a few measly minutes of effort… is that all you have in you?”

  He nodded and collapsed on the floor. Her face was engulfed in disgust, and she slung him to the side.

  There was a slight commotion in the crowd. The people couldn’t help but laugh and mock Mr. Harte. She leaned down and taunted him more.

  “See how your people, your flock, turn on you at the least sign of adversity! You are a failure! You don’t deserve your existence, so I want it back!”

  She motioned to the people, and at the same time, as if part of a solitary unit, they all stood and started singing ‘Amazing Grace.’ They were swaying back and forth, humming the words and acting like they were at a summer revival trying to s
ave souls and lead lost sheep to the shepherd.

  “Are you ready to go into the great beyond? Are you prepared to enter the inescapable darkness? Are you ready to return to the nothingness from whence you came? Are you ready to be the final example for your beloved flock? It’s ironic really. In a humbling kind of way, you were led astray by your own hands long ago, and your judgment is just now catching up to you!”

  Mr. Harte’s tears did little to protect him or save him from the horrific end he was about to meet. Willow began a ritual: her arms swayed in a delicate pattern near her heart, and each hand in turn moved from her chest to his. This continued for several minutes. Mr. Harte seemed to be lulled into a passive state as her ritual kept repeating over and over again. As his eyes closed, his head slowly and gently relaxed until it was lying peacefully on his chest. Willow then let out an ear-piercing scream. It was enough to cause everyone to cover their ears and automatically fall to their knees.

  She scanned the room and chanted, “You must bear witness to this spectacle! This is for all of your benefit.”

  Mr. Harte, weary and feeling his boldness abandon him, begged again, “Please, forgive me! If you can’t, haven’t my years of faithful service earned me your mercy? Haven’t I proven to be a loyal servant? If you’re going to do it, then please, do it quick!”

  Everyone instantly looked up, watching Willow’s every move. She pretended that Mr. Harte had never spoken a word. Her movements started again. Her head was nearly rotating in a complete circle, contorting in ways not humanly possible, and her voice seemed to project from each wall and surface in the room. As she recited ancient lyrics, the chests of everyone in attendance began to glow. The vibrations were so strong and fierce that the splinters of glass were dancing on the floor.

  Suddenly, the chanting stopped, her arms fell motionless by her sides, and she stepped closer to his face. The room fell to silence; not a single breath could be heard. Terror had stricken the people, and not even a pulse could be felt. She raised her right arm high above her head, and her eyes became empty as the sickness made its appearance. The people were overcome with dire feelings of dread and guilt and began to pray. This only pleased Willow, and as her breathing rapidly stopped, the room became a captive audience.