“Who?” asked Paul. He knew, without pausing for thought, that nothing Sadie or Tamara said was a direct contradiction of Christianity. There existed a heaven, a hell, and earth. And an all-powerful God who was good and a Satan who was evil. Sadie and Tamara believed exactly that. They just broke the components down into further subparts.
“De dark Loa. Dey waitin’, dey hopin’, to send dere own dark angels out.”
Sadie’s complexion looked like dark parchment, almost lifeless.
“Can you stop him?”
Tamara ran her tongue slowly around her dry lips.
“Sadie, I doan know!” she said. “I jest doan know!”
Sadie moaned. “My sweet Jesus! Whut we goan do? Whut can we do?”
“Let’s get back to town,” Paul said, rising suddenly.
“Why?”
“Because I need to talk to Bobby Ryles.”
“De Chief of Police?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Maybe this man’s been somewhere else before. Maybe news of some strange happenings is beginning to come over the wires. Maybe even news of some strange happenings here in town. And we have to find Josh, get him straightened out. He ought to be able to tell us something.”
“How we goan straighten Josh out?” Sadie asked, facing her greatest fear.
“Hogtie him, if we have to. He ain’t going back out. To wherever he goes.”
“Dat stuff, it be real powerful, Paul,” advised Tamara. “Even when a body ain’t had none for a while, a long while, it can kick up again and fill dere head up wid sights. Visions. Some good. And some whut can make a body scream aloud and beg for mercy.”
“Then the sooner he stops taking the stuff, the sooner we’ll know the damage. Let’s get back to town, Sadie.”
Tamara hesitated. She knew far more than she’d shared with her sister. The gods, her powerful gods of light, had spoken to her on the scent of flowers filling the room as she conversed with her veve.
“’Fore you leave, Paul, might be you and me might wander down in the woods a spell.”
Sadie’s eyes filled with alarm.
“Tamara? Why?”
“Oh, hush up, Sadie. First time I had a chance to meet yo’ boy, doan grudge me a few minutes alone wid him, now do you?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tamara led him out into the woods and down a small path. She stopped at a carved wooden bench under a gigantic water oak.
“Let’s us sit a spell, son.”
Paul sat. “You saw more than you wanted Sadie to hear. Didn’t you?”
“Well, now, might be dat’s why I thought you and me ought to have dis talk. Give me yo’ hand, son.”
“What?”
“Yo’ hand. Give me yo’ hand.”
She reached out and turned it palm upward, leaned close, and traced several lines with the tip of her finger. Finally, she sat back. And said nothing.
Paul broke the silence.
“I wish I thought you weren’t sayin’ anything because there’s nothing there tells you anything. But I don’t think that’s the reason you ain’t talkin’.”
Tamara gave a half-hearted smile. “You a caution, boy. I’s just tryin’ to think how to ‘splain it, dat’s all. See here, I can’t help you as much as I want to. I’s goan have to sort of sit myself back and advise. My power’s not goan stop dis man, not all by itself.”
“Why not? You tellin’ me your gods of Light ain’t more powerful than the gods of Dark?”
“No, I ain’t. Ain’t tellin’ you dat a’tall. I’m tellin’ you I ain’t de one dey goan use to stop dis man. Dey mo’ powerful, sho’ nuff. Doan you be thinkin’ else wise, good always goan be stronger, but boy, it always goan be a struggle. An’ in dis struggle, ain’t me goan be dere soldier. It be you.”
“Me?”
“You. An’ I’s goan help you jest as much as I possibly can, doan fret yourself none ‘bout dat. An’ dere’s things I can do, things goan help protect you, but I can’t do most of it. You have to. An’ dere’s not one thing I can do whut goan change dat. Wish dere was.”
Paul dispassionately noted the ripples of sunlight that splashed through the leaves. This was pretty country. He wished he’d brought Chloe into the country more often.
Finally, he spoke.
“Will I win?”
“Yes.” Tamara responded with no hesitation.
Paul lifted his hand and turned Tamara’s face to look into her eyes. He trusted this woman. In fact, he already loved her, as though the love he felt for Sadie spread over onto this duplicate face. He smiled. She was telling the truth. Just not all of it.
“Will I live to know it?”
“Oh, yes, son. Oh, yes. You got a long life ‘head of you, boy.”
Paul smiled again. He wondered how enjoyable his long life would be. He pressed Tamara no further. He’d get his brother out of this mess and right now, that was good enough.
“All right,” he said, dropping his hand from her face and standing up. “I best be getting back to town.”
“When you find Joshua, you do jest like you say. You hogtie him, do you has to.”
* * *
Tamara stood in her sunny yard and watching them drive off. Her heart ached. Long ago, she’d made a choice. She’d refused to meet her sister’s sons—and in Sadie’s heart, Paul was as much her son as Joshua—as youngsters. She’d always known, somewhere deep in her heart. She’d known something dark and evil would stalk them. When that time came round, she’d need a clear head. She didn’t her objectivity hampered by memories of them running into her arms with welcoming hugs or scenes of them playing in her yard cluttering her head. She’d have to be strong. For them. For all of them.
“Lord, my God,” she breathed softly. Tamara had no conflict with the concept of God. He merely used many sources to work His will. “I knows dis is how it gonna’ be. But why? Why? Did you have to pick one of our boys to be yo’ dark angel?”
* * *
Paul and Sadie rode back to town in silence, each deep within their own thoughts. Dark thoughts, smoky clouds swirling in gathering turmoil.
Long life ahead of you, boy….
Almost but not quite, he understood. He didn’t want to understand. If he did, he might leave everything and everyone and run. Run like the demons of hell were snapping at his ankles.
He didn’t recall ever in his life running away from anything. He straightened his shoulders. What would happen would happen. He’d survive. Tamara said so. And he thought that might not be a good thing. But he’d deal with later—later.
* * *
Sadie sat in silence and stole glances at Paul’s profile, memorizing the straight, proud nose, the curving lips, the finely drawn bones.
Something bad was coming. She felt it. Somehow taking Paul to Tamara had—not caused it, exactly, but drawn it closer, made it irrevocable. A mother could not, should not, choose between her children. Sadie would sacrifice herself in a heartbeat to save either of her sons. Deep in her aching heart, she knew she didn’t have that choice. Whatever was coming, it didn’t want her. It wanted her boys.
“Paul?”
“Yes, Sadie?”
“I love you, son.”
Paul smiled. Sadie wasn’t free with words of affection. She expressed her love in more concrete ways. Closets full of clean clothes, the swift mending of a favorite shirt, chocolate cake at the end of the meal, tall glasses of cool tea offered in the heat of summer. Chiding words of criticism and warm glances of approval.
“I know. I love you, too.”
“I know.”
Paul smiled. And, having said all that was really important, they arrived back home.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Paul’s afternoon didn’t go as he’d hoped. Several patients waited for him when they arrived home and by the time he’d finished his afternoon hours, it was too late to make the trip downtown to City Hall to speak with Bobby Ryles, Macon’s Chief of Police.<
br />
Paul stood in thought and walked to the front windows, glancing up and down the streets. No sign of Joshua. He went in search of Sadie and found her standing on a chair attacking the shelves of books in the library with a damp dust cloth.
“You did those last week,” he said behind her.
She started in surprise and almost lost her balance. He moved forward, caught her waist and steadied her. Then he offered her his hand and she stepped down.
“I know,” she said. “But I gots to stay busy and these take a lot of time.”
“Sadie, you said you’d seen him with some of the other boys. Who?”
“You goan go look?”
“Don’t know what else to do.”
“Please be careful, son.”
“Sadie, Josh is in trouble, not me.”
“I seen him wid Abe Ludlow t’other evening. An’ Eulises Jones. Think dey was with Jeremiah Andrews, too.”
“See where they were heading?”
“Just down de street. Could have been goin’ anywhere.”
“Down the street which way? Toward town?”
“No, son. Toward the river.”
“Good a place as any, I guess,” said Paul, and headed out the door.
She closed her eyes and sank down into the chair.
“Sadie!” Paul’s roar echoed back down the hall. Heart in her throat, she raced down the short corridor. In the front door, Paul bent over Joshua, slumped against the door frame with his back against the wall of the house. His legs were drawn tightly against his chest, his head bent against his knees. He was hugging himself and moaning.
“Josh?” Paul spoke in a low voice, shaking his brother’s shoulders gently. “Josh, it’s me, it’s Paul. C’mon, let go,” he urged. He tried to push the boy’s arms down and coax him to stand up.
“Unnnnn.” The moans continued. Josh’s arms stayed wrapped tightly around himself.
“Josh, please, it’s Paul, now let go!”
Josh threw back his head. His eyes widened. A scream of pure terror gushed from his mouth.
“Oh, hell!” Paul exclaimed. “Sadie, I got to get him inside!”
“Nooooooo! Can’t touch it! It burns! It burns! Get away from me! Get away! I want Paul, but I can’t go home! I can’t go home! Get awayyyy!”
Josh finally loosened his arms and kicked his legs out, flailing wildly at some vision dancing in his sight alone. Paul got one arm under Josh’s shoulders, the other under his legs, and scooped his brother, still flailing and kicking, up in his arms. He strode rapidly towards Josh’s room.
He realized in only a few moments there was no way he could keep Johusa on the bed short of tying or drugging him.
“Sadie! Get me something, a sheet, maybe. Tear it in strips! Hurry!”
Sadie ran to the kitchen and pulled open a cabinet where she kept cleaning supplies. She grabbed a sheet she’d culled from the laundry as future cleaning cloths. Not taking the time to locate the scissors, she ran back towards Joshua’s room, tearing at the hem with her teeth. Her lean hands, strong from years of household service, finally won the battle with the cloth and it shredded with a noisy rip.
“I can’t let go of him! You have to do it! Loop it over his hands first and tie it to the bedpost!”
Sadie barely managed. Joshua’s wildly thrashing arms almost defeated both her and Paul. Josh moaned, the moans interspersed with screams. “It’s coming! Oh God, it’s coming! Jesus, it’s so big!”
When she had one arm secured, Paul turned loose with one of his hands and grabbed for the next strip, slipping the cloth over Josh’s wrist and securing the other end to the bedpost. Working together, they finished the job and stood back, breathing in short gasps. Joshua’s strength was astonishing and it had taken both of them to manage.
“Go get me the laudanum, Sadie!”
“On top of this? Paul, you don’t know what that’ll do!”
“I know he’s going into convulsions in about two more seconds if I don’t! Now get it!”
Sadie got it.
“Hold his head still!” Paul commanded, and Sadie managed, barely, to keep Josh’s head still and his mouth open as Paul slipped the spoon home. He threw the liquid down quickly and shoved Josh’s mouth shut before he spewed the narcotic out, holding it shut with one hand while he gently rubbed Josh’s throat with the other until the throat muscles worked. He waited for the drug to take effect, wondering if it would work at all. He knew he dared give the boy no more. Finally, the moans slowed. Josh shuddered. His head fell to one side and his eyes closed. Quiet.
“Thank God!” Paul sat heavily on the bed.
“Amen!” Sadie sank down into the armchair that stood by the bed.
“Well, son? What now?”
“The boys you’ve seen him with. Do you see them regularly? Any certain time? Any certain day?”
“I’ve only noticed ‘em occasionally but den I ain’t really been lookin’. Sometimes Josh head out on his own, but the times I seen ‘em, look to me like dey was coming by to get him. Seems like it was about 7:00.”
“Go stay in the parlor and watch. And if you see ‘em, come get me.”
“Why?”
“’Cause if Josh don’t come out, they ain’t goin’ to walk up and knock for him. Not if they’re all in this. And I want to see where they go.”
“You goan follow ‘em?”
“That’s the idea. ‘Less you got a better one.”
“Well, I do,” Sadie declared. “I most certainly do. I’ll follow ‘em.”
“Like hell you will,” he retorted. “We don’t know what you’d be following them to and I ain’t about to let you walk by yourself straight into God knows what.”
“Like hell I won’t,” she spat back.
“Pardon?” Paul asked in masculine surprise.
“I said, like hell I won’t. Smooth yo’ ruffled feathers down and think a minute. ‘Spose you gone and Josh comes to. Suppose he quiet. What I ‘sposed to do? Untie him? And if he has another spell, I’m goan be able to keep him still by myself? Suppose he wake up jest like he was? I’m goan judge whut to give him? If I’m ‘sposed to give him anything? You got to stay with Josh, Paul. You got to.”
Goddamn it. She was right.
“Then you stay in, too. Hell with it. You ain’t traipsing off by yourself!”
“I be careful.”
“We don’t know what the hell you have to be careful of!”
“Oh, hush up! Dey find out Josh ain’t coming back out, they stop passin’ by and we loose the chance to follow ‘em.”
She got up and headed out of the room.
“Sadie! I said no!” He got up and followed her.
She turned on her heel and faced him, hands on hips.
“Boy, I don’t recall I asked yo’ permission!”
Suddenly Paul was eleven years old again, climbing back in his upstairs bedroom window in the wee hours of the morning after a moonlit skinny-dipping swim with Tom Benson and Billy Jenkins. His heart dropped to his stomach when he made his successful entry and viewed the long dark shadow on his floor. He’d raised his eyes slowly, following the line of the shadow resolving itself into the long lines of Sadie’s body. Just so had her hands been positioned on her hips. Just so had her face borne the same implacable look of inevitability.
He made one last effort.
“Please?”
“Paul, I gots to, son. Surely you see that?”
He moved forward and pulled her into a swift hug.
“If you see them, call me when you leave.”
Sadie nodded, her head against his chest.
“And for God’s sakes, be careful.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Sadie paced restlessly in front of the windows, checking the mantle clock every two minutes or so. Occasionally she thrust her hand into her deep skirt pocket, the one where she’d secreted the largest kitchen knife she could easily conceal. Paul wanted her to take his pistol but she overrode his protests with th
e reminder a pistol had to be reloaded. She didn’t intend to be seen and she certainly had no intention of becoming a captive, but if such event did come to pass, she knew she could do more damage with a knife.
She looked at the clock again. It was ten minutes past seven. The boys weren’t coming. Just when she was ready to admit this opportunity was lost, she saw them.
They walked steadily past the house, glancing at the porch. Their pace slowed. When they reached the fence gate, they stopped entirely and engaged in swift conversation. Finally, they moved on.
Sadie held her breath and waited for them to pass from sight. She slipped out the door and angled down the yard, cursing the fences that separated the yards of the houses from the sidewalks. There was no way she could maneuver under cover of the shrubbery. She hung back and did something she tried never to do. She loosened her control of the portion of her brain that sometimes showed her scenes her eyes couldn’t see, trying to keep the boys in sight even out of sight.
They headed down Orange, cut across a few side streets and angled toward Wharf Street, toward the river and out of town. Sadie paused, holding her side and cursing her advancing years. It was hell to get older. She heard voices off in the distance and hung back further. She peered through the deep tree shadows in the swiftly falling haze that wasn’t so much darkness yet as grayness. A clearing loomed ahead. She crept closer, judging her distance, and finally settled at a spot she judged safe, some yards back from the full clearing. She caught her breath.
A giant stood in the center of the clearing. A big man, dear God, so big! He towered over his subjects in full regalia, amulets of gold and necklaces of bone draped over his massive shoulders. He’d had no need for pretense for the last month past. A circle of fires leapt and danced. Sadie gave a quick count. Seven fires. Greased with fat, the giant gleamed in the firelight. The oppressive heat of the humid day hung heavy in the air, intensified by the glowing coals of the red flames.
Dark Series, The Color of Seven and The Color of Dusk (Books We Love Special Edition) Page 14