by Brian Harmon
And when did his life become so weird that this all didn’t sound utterly insane?
His cell phone rang and he fished it from the pocket of his jeans. It was Isabelle.
“Okay, so I just talked to Karen and she’s, like, totally pissed off at you.”
Eric sighed. “Yeah. I know.”
“We’ve got to get you home by Friday morning.”
“I know. I think my marriage depends on it.”
“Your place in bed definitely depends on it.”
“You have anything for me, or did you just call to tell me what I already know?”
“Hey, don’t get snippy with me. I’m on your side.”
“Sorry. But seriously, what do you know about magic?”
“I liked watching it on TV before I became a face on a milk carton.”
“What about this real magic I’m hearing about today?”
“Far as I know, it doesn’t exist.”
“So you’ve never encountered a real magician before? Or a witch?”
“I’m a thirteen-year-old girl who hasn’t aged in thirty-seven years and can read your mind from anywhere in the world. Magic kind of seems irrelevant to me.”
“Good point.” It wasn’t much different than a man who could conjure golems or churn his own aura into a monstrous, living fluid.
“One thing I learned from the people I ran into inside Altrusk’s moody mansion is that there are two distinct kinds of paranormal energies out there. One is psychic energy, which has to do with the mysteries of the mind. The other is spiritual, which of course is related to the soul. As far as I’ve ever been able to tell, everything weird and unusual that I’ve ever witnessed can be lumped into one of those two categories. Jude’s ‘magic’ may be nothing more than the same psychic and spiritual abilities you’ve been encountering since the day you met me.”
“That’s true.”
“But there’s a lot I don’t know. I mean, there could be lots of other kinds of energy out there, including magic, and I just haven’t run across it yet. Either way, I wouldn’t underestimate it. It’s likely to be just as dangerous.”
“I’d be surprised if it wasn’t.”
Jude was watching him talk, his brow furrowed. “Who are you talking to?”
“A friend,” replied Eric. He was fairly sure he could trust the kid, but he didn’t like telling people about Isabelle unless he absolutely had to. He was afraid that if the wrong people found out about her, they might go looking for her, and he refused to put her in danger.
“A lot of people believe in magic,” Isabelle informed him. “A lot of the people I was trapped in the Altrusk house with thought that place was magic. Mostly, I think it’s just a way to rationalize anything people don’t understand.”
“I’d generally agree with that,” said Eric.
“So it could be that these people just call what they do magic because they don’t understand it. But I’m not going to dismiss it as a possibility, either.”
Eric nodded. That sounded very smart.
“I’ll let you know if I sense anything weird.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“I know.”
“By the way, where are you?”
“A little hunting cabin in the woods. Hell if I know where. Might be Canada.”
“Sounds nice.”
“It is. At least I’m alone here. The last few places I passed through were…occupied.” Since leaving the Altrusk house, she’d traveled the world, jumping from one place to the next without ever stepping foot outside. Because she was partially fused to these places, she couldn’t simply walk out the door. She could only move around by using the mysterious gateway that existed inside the buildings she visited. She’d described this gateway to him as a door hidden deep within each building, where normal people couldn’t go for some reason. He still didn’t understand it, but the doorway apparently never led to the same place twice. She entered and exited by it and it always led somewhere new, but somewhere with the same, strange properties that had defined the Altrusk house, a place only half inside this world. Most of these places were deserted, but occasionally she ran across others like herself, people trapped in the buildings, unable to leave. Strangely, these people always seemed to succumb to some kind of madness within months of being trapped, eventually leaving them little more than frightened, empty shells of the people they used to be. She didn’t like being near those people. She found them disturbing. And they reminded her too much of the Altrusk house, which had trapped quite a few unsuspecting souls over the years. Of all those unfortunate people she’d encountered, Isabelle was the only one who’d successfully retained her sanity. She had no idea why.
The one advantage was that whenever she encountered someone, she somehow had the ability to absorb any knowledge they had about the world, which was how she’d become so knowledgeable about the weird and supernatural.
“I’ll be…you know…right inside your head if you need me.”
Eric smiled. “Thanks.”
“Bye.”
He hung up and pocketed the phone.
Jude continued to glance at him as he drove, but he didn’t ask about Isabelle again.
Eric didn’t volunteer anything. “So how far into Illinois are we going?”
“Way down in the southern part of the state. It’s about eight hours from here.”
“Fantastic.”
“Maybe you should take a little nap. You might not be sleeping much tonight. And let me tell you, there’s not much to see between here and there.”
Eric thought that sounded like a good idea, but it was almost three hours before the endless fields of Illinois finally lulled him completely to sleep.
Chapter Three
Eric awoke to the sound of his cell phone ringing in his pocket. Grumbling, he wrestled it free and glanced at the screen. It was his brother, Paul.
“Where are you?”
Eric looked out the window. All he could see was farm fields in every direction. “I think I’m somewhere in the Corn Kingdom.”
“That narrows it down.”
Sitting up, Eric looked over at Jude, who still looked remarkably wide-awake for someone who was making his second trip down these endless highways today. “Where are we?”
“Interstate Fifty-Seven.”
Into the phone, Eric said, “Did you catch that?”
“Yeah. Who was that?”
“New friend of mine. Jude.”
“He that kid Karen’s pissed off about?”
“That would be him.”
“He’d better stay clear of her from now on.”
“I know. Let me guess, she called you to keep an eye on me again.”
“Yep. Kevin and me are southbound heading your way. We’re supposed to make sure you get home in time for your anniversary thing. Or all three of us are going to get it.”
“Awesome.”
Karen had a way of repressing her emotions, but she never hesitated to call in favors when she was worried about him. Just like last month, she’d decided to make Paul accompany him on his bizarre quest. And Paul had apparently decided to bring his grown son along this time. He had to hand it to her, there weren’t many women out there that could get his brother to do her bidding, but he almost never told her no, regardless of what she asked of him.
“I know,” grumbled Paul. “This is just exactly how I wanted to spend my day.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Any idea where you’re heading?”
“None whatsoever.”
“We’ll give you a call when we’re on Fifty-Seven, then.”
“Okay. Talk to you then.”
Eric hung up.
“Another friend?”
“My brother. My wife’s sending him to help.”
Jude gave a short snort of a laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just…they’re not going to find this place very easily.”
“They’ll ma
nage.”
But Jude just grinned and kept his eyes on the highway.
The cell phone chimed at him, alerting him to a new text message. It was Isabelle, and like always, her texts went straight to the screen, never giving him the option of ignoring it, which was good since Isabelle’s messages were sometimes very important.
I FEEL SOMETHING STRANGE
“What kind of something?” asked Eric, sitting up straighter.
I’M NOT SURE YET. I STARTED SENSING IT ABOUT AN HOUR AGO, WHILE YOU WERE SNOOZING
In the past, Isabelle’s senses had alerted him to unusual things in his environment. She still wasn’t sure how these strange feelings worked, or why she could feel things about his environment through him, even when he couldn’t, but it usually proved important.
IT’S NOT LIKE THE UNSEEN, she informed him, referring to those strange locations he’d found last month that only he and a few other people had been able to perceive. It was the first thing that popped into his mind.
“Does it have something to do with this magic business, do you think?”
IT MIGHT
Eric nodded. Magic or not, something had caught Isabelle’s sixth sense and Eric was sure he would end up having to deal with it in some way or another.
IT’S NOT LIKE ANYTHING ELSE I’VE EVER FELT
“Let me know if anything changes.”
SURE THING
Eric pocketed the phone and looked out at the endless passing fields. Isabelle’s texts always looked the same. Full words. No shortcuts. Complete sentences. She didn’t actually have a phone. The texts were projections of her own thoughts sent to him through the phone line. They transmitted almost instantaneously. Replacing “U” for “YOU” and “R” for “ARE” would be pointless. She’d thanked him once for her good spelling, informing him that it was her psychic connection to him that had allowed her to absorb that handy talent right from his head. (He wished teaching his high school students was half that easy.) He wasn’t sure why she never ended a text with a period. Multiple sentences were always separated by proper punctuation, but unless the final sentence required a question mark or an exclamation point, she always left it off. It appeared to be nothing more than a strange little quirk. Oddly, although he possessed the standard-issue English teacher disdain for other people’s poor grammar, it had never bothered him. Maybe it was because he never bothered to use punctuation on the rare occasions when he texted something to Karen.
“Never saw anyone use a phone like that before,” remarked Jude. “Is it some kind of fancy smart phone or something?”
Eric grinned. “Something like that.” Isabelle was extraordinarily smart.
They pulled off at the next exit and drove through a McDonald’s for dinner. Eric splurged and ordered an extra sandwich. He’d slept through lunch, after all, and probably wouldn’t be getting anything else to eat for a while.
Once back on the Interstate, they drove on for another twenty minutes before Jude finally exited and turned onto a two-lane country road. Pointing the van east, he drove for another half an hour before turning onto another similar road. Less than ten minutes later, they turned right on yet another.
“How much farther?” asked Eric as they passed through a tiny little town with little more than a gas station and an antique mall.
“We’re almost there,” Jude assured him. But then they drove for another twenty minutes before pulling off the paved road entirely and following a dusty gravel road even deeper into the endless farmlands.
About three miles down this road, Eric finally caught sight of an old farmhouse, complete with a massive barn and even an old silo. The place looked to be in need of paint and a considerable amount of yard work, but otherwise, it didn’t look too bad.
Eric’s phone chimed at him and he again wrestled it from the depths of his front pants pocket.
THAT’S IT, she announced.
“That’s what?” asked Eric.
WHAT I’VE BEEN FEELING. WHATEVER IT IS, IT’S COMING FROM IN THERE
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he had very little choice in the matter. He’d come all this way to see the boy’s mother. He couldn’t change his mind now.
Jude nosed the minivan between the barn and the house and killed the engine. “Here we are,” he announced.
Eric looked out over the overgrown lawn to the surrounding fields. He could see for miles in any direction. The only obstructions were the buildings themselves. “You guys own this place?”
“No. We’re just borrowing it for a while.”
Eric looked over at him, suspicious. “Legally?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a lot like that thing I did to get in your house.”
“I’d better not get arrested out here.”
“Relax. Nobody was using it. And Mom’s got everything covered.” With that, he hopped out of the van and closed the door behind him.
Eric looked down at his phone again. “I’m going to get arrested out here, aren’t I?”
PROBABLY
Sighing, he opened the door and stepped out into the cool, late-afternoon sunshine.
Chapter Four
Jude stepped through the front door ahead of Eric. “Mom, I’m back,” he called into the silent house. “I found the guy you wanted.”
It was obvious the house wasn’t a permanent residence. It had an empty feel about it. There were no decorations, no pictures hung on the walls, no rugs on the floors, no centerpiece on the dining room table. It lacked these homey touches. It was only sparsely furnished, but there were furnishings. Curtains hung on all the windows. There were modern appliances in the kitchen and a couch and chairs for sitting in the living room. It had the smell of recently cooked food, something fried, greasy, but not unpleasant.
Most of the places he encountered on his strange journeys had been deserted. This was a welcome change of pace from those unsettling settings. But just once, he’d like to find himself drawn to a fancy resort or a tropical beach.
“Mom?”
“In here,” came a soft voice from the rear of the house.
Jude walked toward the voice, to a small bedroom at the far end of the hallway, and Eric followed him.
She was sitting at a small folding table littered with bowls and candles, her head lowered into her hands, her long, black hair hanging over her face and pooling onto the surface of the table.
Jude knelt beside her. “Mom…?”
The woman turned and embraced the boy, burying her head against his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her.
Her voice was only a whisper, but Eric heard her clearly in the silence of the house, and her words were heavy. “He’s taken another one.”
The boy looked horror stricken. “What? When? Who?”
“Marie. It was this morning.”
Jude looked as if he’d been socked in the gut. “Oh god…”
“She was such a sweet girl… I don’t understand how someone could do these things.”
Eric stood awkwardly in the doorway, wondering if he should retreat back to the living room and give them some privacy.
“I should’ve been there,” lamented Jude.
But his mother shook her head. “You couldn’t save her. You’d only have ended up dead, too.”
“It’s not fair…”
“I know, baby.” Now she lifted her head a little. One dark eye twinkled at him through that black hair. “But you’ve brought us our savior.”
“I did,” Jude assured her. “I found him.”
Eric didn’t care for being referred to as their “savior.” That sounded like a lot to put on one man. He still had no idea how he was supposed to be able to help these people. He had no power.
“Eric Fortrell,” said the woman.
“Hi,” was all Eric could think to say.
Jude stepped aside as his mother stood up and swept her long hair out of her face.
“Thank you so much for coming.”
For a moment, Eric couldn’t find his words. The woman before him was much younger than he’d first realized. And she was astoundingly beautiful, with dark, Caribbean features. She wore a light, wispy blouse that had looked like a modest housedress when he first saw her in the chair. Slouched over, her face hidden, she’d looked small and frail, but the skin-tight halter top she wore beneath the open blouse revealed a lean, toned stomach and accentuated her full, firm breasts. Her waist was slender, her legs long in her snug capris. She must have been the object of desire for almost every man who caught sight of her.
He hadn’t expected her to be green, of course. He hadn’t even expected her to be in any way foul or ugly like the weird sisters in Macbeth. But he also hadn’t expected her to be gorgeous.
Before he could think how to compose himself, the woman rushed forward and embraced him, pressing her exquisite body against him and holding him there.
She smelled of peaches and lilacs.
The only thought in his head was that Karen, already mad at him, would murder him if she could see him now.
“You’re going to save us,” she whispered into his ear. “I’ve seen it.”
He felt a curious shiver pass through him at these words. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” he confessed. “I’m really just an English teacher.”
The woman was still holding him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to do.
“The magic never lies,” she assured him.
Eric didn’t know what to say to this, so he simply said, “Okay.”
Finally, the woman released him and took a step back. She wiped at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s been hard around here lately.”
“It’s okay.”
“My name is Delphinium Thorngood. My family calls me Del.”
“You’re Jude’s mother?”
She smiled. “I know. I look too young.”
“You do, honestly.”
She gave him a little shrug. The gesture was endearing. “I’m a witch. I cheat. A little.” She looked at her son and smiled. “But only a little. I became pregnant with Jude when I was only fourteen.”