by Gary Jonas
“I see,” Lakesha said. “And how many days have you been on time for your studies since we started?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You don’t respect my time, so why should I go out of my way to help you? I’m available, as is Sabrina, but we get paid whether or not you accept our instruction. Things are slower in the mornings, but you can’t be bothered to show up until afternoon. I have more customers to deal with then.”
I laughed. “You’ve had one customer in the last two hours.”
“On normal days, I’d be packing online orders in the afternoons, but since you don’t show up until late, I’ve been doing that in the mornings.”
“So now you’re going to tell me that you do most of your business online?”
“Not anymore. Your father pays me quite well now.”
“So why not close down your stupid shop and adjust your schedule to mine?”
Isis growled from where she sat in the corner.
“Shut up, cat,” I said. I stared at Lakesha. “Answer me.”
“You won’t like it.”
“Answer me anyway.”
She took a deep breath. “Fine. The truth is that when your father approached me, he paid me what you might call a signing bonus so that no matter what happened, it would be worth my while.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Your father knew you wouldn’t apply yourself, Brett. I believed you would, but after spending a few days with you, I realized he was probably right.”
“He knows me better than you do.”
“This conversation is making me uncomfortable,” Gene said. He fidgeted in his seat.
“Get over it,” I said.
“Your father knows the way you were,” Lakesha said. “I see the man you can grow to be, but I worry you won’t have that opportunity. This is not what I wanted for you.”
“Psychic powers on the fritz? Figures.”
“Oh, I knew it was only a matter of time before something went wrong because my job is to find threats for you to handle. I wanted to start small, and I thought the ghost problem would be a lot simpler than it’s turned out to be, but that danger is always there when the supernatural is involved. There are dark forces out there.”
“You’re stalling and I’m about to fall asleep waiting for the so-called true answer you promised me.”
“Your father paid me up front for a year. That was my signing bonus. Mine to keep no matter what happens.”
“Good for you. And yet you haven’t adjusted your schedule.”
“I saw glimmers of hope, Brett. You were good with Demetrius.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Something about your father.”
“Spill.”
She looked at the floor for a moment. “In six words or less?” She raised her head and met my gaze, held it, then said, “He doesn’t expect you to survive.”
“So you’ve been well compensated to find something that might kill me?”
“No. I don’t want you to die, Brett. I just haven’t seen enough desire from you to learn in our limited time together. You’d rather sleep than learn to protect yourself.”
“I like sleeping.”
“Yes, well, your father has a pool running right now. Whoever guesses which month you die wins a million dollars.”
“You’re in this pool?”
“Of course not!”
“So why even tell me about it?”
“Because your father chose August.”
So my old man didn’t expect me to make it through my first month of training. Good to know. I can’t say it surprised me much, but it was still a punch in the gut.
I nodded as the truth sank in. He thought so little of me even after I’d saved his ass, that he assumed I wouldn’t make it as a working wizard for one lousy month. Not only would I not make it, but I’d die on the job he was forcing me to take. Grow up or die.
“Say something.”
“What is there to say?” I asked. “My father is an asshole. And clearly, there’s something to your feeling that I wasn’t worth changing your schedule to accommodate because you believe he’s right that I won’t make it a single month.”
“I’m hoping you prove me wrong.”
“Hope in one hand, shit in the other. You know which hand will fill up first.”
“Your father set the rules.”
“He always does,” I said. “I’ll go get that necklace now. Evidently, I have an appointment with death so my old man can win a million bucks. I’m glad you get to keep your pay.” I got up and left the store.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
My father and I used to watch Clint Eastwood movies. We both loved the westerns, of course. Beyond that, I always liked the funnier movies like Every Which Way But Loose with the orangutan, but my father always liked the Dirty Harry flicks. I suspected The Dead Pool was his inspiration for his own little dead pool because I doubted he’d seen the Marvel movie.
As I drove home to get the necklace, I thought about my childhood. Those hours spent on the sofa watching movies with my old man. That was our time. It was about the only time he and I shared alone, and the only time where he wasn’t constantly criticizing me. I didn’t have a lot of good memories from my childhood, but movie time with my father was right up there toward the top of that short list.
We didn’t just watch Clint Eastwood movies. We watched all kinds of movies, but Eastwood was my father’s favorite actor, so as a kid, Eastwood was my favorite, too. Eastwood as the Man with No Name was so damn cool. He’d walk into a town with confidence knowing he could outdraw and outshoot anyone. My father identified with that.
“Brett,” he said once, “that’s how I live my life. I walk in and I know I’m the most powerful wizard in any gathering. I stand alone at the apex of the mountain and in a face-off with any other wizard, I will always come out on top.”
One night, we watched the James Garner movie Support Your Local Sheriff. In the film, Garner played a guy who doesn’t seem like he’s any stronger or badder than anyone else. People constantly underestimated him, and he kept having to prove himself, but he outsmarted and outwitted everyone. When faced with a gunfighter, he chased the son of a bitch out of town by throwing rocks at him. When he accepted the job as sheriff, and the jail didn’t have any bars on the cells, he dripped red paint on the floor before arresting Bruce Dern’s character. He told Dern that the paint was blood from the last guy who tried to escape. I loved that movie.
“Dad,” I said when the movie was over, “that’s how I want to live my life. Someone points a gun at me, I’ll just stick my finger in the barrel.”
“Son, that movie is a comedy. Life doesn’t work like that. To live in this world, you need to be more like Clint Eastwood and less like James Garner.”
But I wasn’t like Clint Eastwood and I knew it.
I wasn’t up to James Garner level either, but at least I could identify with him. In The Rockford Files he got his ass kicked. I got my ass kicked a lot. And again, Rockford outsmarted everyone by running cons and being persistent. I lost the persistent side of things, of course, except when it came to procrastinating. I once considered trying to be the world’s greatest procrastinator, but it took too much effort.
When I pulled up to the house, it was just after six in the evening. A white van sat at the curb. I wheeled over behind the van and hopped out of my car.
Teddy and Chuck climbed out of the van.
“Hey, guys,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“Band practice,” Chuck said, running a hand over his bald head. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“I forgot,” I said.
“I told you not to tell me that.”
“I’m sorry, guys, I have to cancel.”
“Is Sabrina here?” Teddy asked. He looked hopeful.
“No, dude, she’s with Michael.”
The way he flinched made me think maybe I should have just left it with a simple
no.
He stubbed his shoe against the pavement and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Figures,” he mumbled. Then he looked me in the eyes. “You forgot to tell Michael about practice tonight, didn’t you?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“And you didn’t tell Sabrina either.”
“Right again. My bad.”
“You know we have a gig on Saturday, right?” Chuck asked.
“The beach thing,” I said.
“Yeah, the beach thing. It’s a paying gig, Brett. And it’s a chance for us to showcase our talent with Sabrina’s vocals and our new set list. But we haven’t had a single practice since you fucked up our last show at the Hideaway. They won’t book us again, by the way.”
“I figured.”
“If you don’t care about the band, why are you in it?”
“To hook up with chicks, of course.”
Chuck rolled his eyes.
“We can reschedule practice for tomorrow. Cool?”
Teddy shook his head. “I have to work.”
“And my wife is having a dinner party,” Chuck said. “If I miss that, she’ll castrate me while I sleep.”
“Friday?” I asked.
“Dude,” Teddy said, “tomorrow is Friday.”
“Damn,” I said. “Days are just blending together.”
Chuck stared at my arm. “Is that a new tattoo?”
I glanced at the tat. It still showed the Ten of Swords. I guess that card would show until I asked another question and gave my arm a shake. “Yeah. Look, guys, I’m sorry about practice. Maybe we can sneak in a quick practice Saturday afternoon.”
“Michael can’t be there in the afternoon,” Teddy said. Then he said it again, only with a ray of sunshine in his voice. “Michael can’t be there in the afternoon. That means Sabrina won’t be distracted.”
“Guys, I hate to be a dick, but I have to grab something from the house and go. I have some serious shit going on right now.”
“Like what?” Teddy asked.
“Like serious shit.”
“Blonde or brunette?” Chuck asked.
“Not that kind of serious.”
“So tell us what’s going on.”
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Try us,” Teddy said.
“Okay, I have a ghost inside me that wants to make me kill myself and I have to get a necklace to go face beings known as the Dark Ones at a salvage yard in Houston or they’ll start eating souls.”
They stared at me.
I sighed. “Brunette,” I said.
“I hope she’s worth it,” Chuck said. “Come on, Teddy. We may need to start auditioning for a new lead guitarist.”
They climbed into the van and left.
Not much I could do about that, so I went inside, grabbed the necklace and Abigail’s wallet, then returned to my car. When I slid behind the wheel, I didn’t bother to start the car. I gripped the wheel and stared at myself in the rearview mirror. What the hell was I doing? Tossing aside my friends and my music to risk my life for people I didn’t even know? And these so-called Dark Ones had only fed on ghosts so far. For all I knew, they’d be happy feeding on spirits and wouldn’t even go for any living souls. Why was this my problem?
I looked at the tattoo of the Tarot card. Ruin. I needed a better answer. Maybe I needed a better question. What can I expect if I continue down this path? I thought.
Die die die! Regina said.
Not again.
Die die die!
I gave my arm a shake and looked at the card. It shifted to reveal one of the major arcana: The Moon.
The image featured a dog and a wolf facing off against each other. Yeah, this did not bode well.
Die die die Regina chanted.
I dug into my memory. What did the Moon card represent? Some kind of mystery, of course. Was the deck telling me it didn’t know what I should expect? And then it hit me. The Moon was about going into the dark of night to face yourself. To see the real you. The you that you hide from. The wild against the domestic. But as my teacher told me so many years ago, if you don’t move through the darkness, you’ll never find the light.
And why did I remember what she told me when I’d forgotten or not paid attention to most of what my other teachers said? If you guessed the teacher was hot, you scored a point. Miss Emily, oh how I crushed on her. I tried to answer the questions because I wanted to see her smile.
That fell apart, of course, because one night I walked into the big house in New Orleans, went to my father’s library on the ground level of the mansion to study, and found my father with Miss Emily. They were doing some studying of their own. She was mortified when I caught them, and ran from the library, tugging her dress on as she went past me.
But my father’s satisfied smile haunted me for years.
I think he wanted me to catch them because he knew I liked her a little too much. It was another way for him to show what kind of power he held.
My heart died that night.
The next morning, Miss Emily tried to act like nothing happened, and started the lesson like normal, but I said something awful. I called her a slut, right to her face.
Her cheeks reddened, tears welled in her eyes, and she said, “I never meant… I didn’t feel like I had a choice. Your father is a man of power.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Please don’t grow up to be like him,” she said.
“Why not? He gets women like you all the time.”
The tears spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them away, held her head up and was about to try starting the lesson again, but my father walked into the classroom.
He gave her the same slimy smile he’d given me. “I’d like to see you in the library again tonight, Emily,” he said.
“I can’t do this anymore,” she said. She walked up to him, and looked him right in the eyes. “Having great power does not make you a great man.”
“That’s not what you said last night.” He nodded to me. “Isn’t that right, son?”
I should have defended her, but at that point, I still thought I might be able to get my father’s approval someday. “That’s right, Dad,” I said.
She restarted the waterworks, walked out the door, and I never saw her again.
Die die die! Regina chanted.
Maybe you’re right, Regina, I thought. All I ever do is let people down. Maybe death is the best answer. I shook my head like maybe Regina would fly out an ear and be gone. With night coming, she was getting stronger. These thoughts were all hers, not mine.
Right?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
By the time we made it to Houston, it was dark, and the traffic had improved to the level of bad. You take what you can get. Regina kept urging me to kill myself, and I didn’t have any real arguments against it, but I still had shit to do, so I pushed her back.
Alsup’s Auto Salvage sat in a nonresidential section of Houston, which was just as well. Junked cars were stacked atop one another, gigantic piles of scrap metal stood like mountains, and heavy industrial cranes, forklifts, and other equipment were parked near a car crusher and a series of massive bins filled with engine parts. Some cars sat without wheels and with mangled front ends.
The gate to the yard stood open, and lights were on, though the place looked deserted. I stopped Lakesha’s hearse in the gateway. She had me drive because she hated driving at night. A small group of people had gathered at the gate. Abigail looked gorgeous sitting on the hood of a parked Honda Civic in the middle of the crowd, and a line of cars stretched out behind them.
“That’s our coven,” Gene said. “Would you like to meet them?”
“Not really,” I said.
Michael pulled up and parked in the dark shadows off to my right. He and Sabrina got out of his Dodge Charger and approached the hearse.
“Let’s make our introductions,” Lakesha said. She sat between me and Gene. “Get out of the car, Brett.”
I shut off the engine
and climbed out. She followed me, while Gene got out on the other side.
We all gathered at Abigail’s Honda. I slipped past some women, and held out the wallet. Abigail wasn’t wearing any perfume. She snatched the wallet from my hand without even thanking me. Then she opened the damn thing and checked to make sure I hadn’t taken any of her cash or credit cards.
Like I needed her money.
“You need to release Demetrius,” I said.
“I don’t need to do anything for you,” she said with a grin. “Everyone, this is Brett. He thinks too much of himself, so don’t be impressed.”
I looked at the coven. The men and women looked to come from all walks of life. I don’t know what I expected, but these were just normal people. One guy still wore his postal uniform, so he’d come straight from his job delivering mail to be here. Another guy wore a nice suit. The women, like the men, came in all shapes and sizes. Some were slender, some were more average, but none of them would have stood out in a crowd.
Had I expected evil looking women with warts on their noses? Nope. Maybe I thought they’d be wearing robes. Instead, they wore blouses, jeans, slacks, boots, sandals, sneakers. Some had long hair, some had short hair, some even had styled hair. You’d run into these people at a supermarket and not even notice them.
“Hi, everyone,” I said.
A few of them waved, but most didn’t bother. They looked bored. I could relate.
“Is this going to take long?” a short woman asked. “I have to do laundry.”
“I have an early shift tomorrow,” an Asian woman said. “I told my husband I’d be home by ten.”
“Do you people even know why you’re here?” I asked.
“A power blessing,” the Asian woman said. “But I don’t know why we’re doing it way out in the boonies.”
Abigail shrugged. “We needed a full coven,” she said.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her off the car. “Come here,” I said and led her away from the group. She reluctantly went with me.
“What?” she said.
“These people belong at a PTA meeting, not at a battle with creatures from another dimension.”
“So Quincy told you about the Dark Ones.”