Deadlight Jack

by Mark Onspaugh

  On the couch in several chairs was a collection of children. They were dirty, barefoot, weak, and disheartened, but they were alive.

  And there, sitting in a large, overstuffed chair, was Donny with a Vietnamese girl of about the same age. He saw George and immediately brightened.

  “Granddaddy!” He jumped from his chair and ran to George.

  I haven’t seen him since he was a baby…but he knows me.

  George hugged him fiercely.

  “Can we go home?” the boy asked, his eyes bearing a haunted look that George wished with all his heart he could wipe away.

  “Yes, yes we can.”

  The boy smiled, grateful. “Can my friend…”

  He stopped talking and clung tightly to George. George knew why, he could feel the thing watching them.

  “Ah, such a sweet reunion,” said Deadlight Jack.

  George turned, keeping Donny behind him.

  “It occurs to me that I could dine on some exquisite heartache if I were to kill him now, in front of you…But I have the patience for a better plan.”

  “Enough of this,” George said, drawing to his full height. “Keep your word and return him to his family.”

  Deadlight Jack shook his head with mock sadness. “Oh, Georgie-Porgie, what made you think I would keep my word?”

  “You bastard…”

  “Tut, tut—no need to be rude. I have kept my word. The young lad is back with his family, namely, you.”

  “That’s not what I meant, you devil!”

  “Well, here you both are, and here you will stay, and you will give me a distillation of supreme desolation and sorrow as he is slowly transformed from a healthy little boy into…well…”

  He gestured, and the ghost children appeared. They circled George and Donny and gazed at them malevolently. Neither children nor animals, they were something far, far worse than the shambling corpses that inhabited Maison Lémieux.

  George looked around. There were so many wicked, nightmarish things in this place, and he didn’t have a gun or a crossbow. Hell, he didn’t even have a crucifix.

  He had failed. His best friend was dead, and he had tried to save his grandson and here they would stay, surrounded by evil and doomed to become something inhuman…and unholy.

  George tried to stay strong for Donny, but he was tired, so tired—and he felt really old for the first time in his life.

  When Donny started to cry, George hugged him, then began to weep himself.

  And Deadlight Jack, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight, danced as if the sweetest music ever composed was playing.

  Chapter 26

  INTERLUDES

  After the Iberville Parish Sheriff’s Department was unable to locate its officers at their last known location, they assumed that finding their car would provide clues to the men’s whereabouts. Every officer available was tasked with searching Green Water and the surrounding towns, highways, roadside honky-tonks, saloons, and diners for a sign of the Crown Vic they had signed out.

  When the vehicle did not turn up in the initial pass, the search was discontinued until first light, when the maze of surrounding back roads and derelict buildings would also be added.

  —

  While Jimmy was hunting for George in the swamp, George’s family was in the midst of another quarrel.

  It had started at Phoebe’s, where the five of them had gone to get dinner.

  While they were eating, Melissa expressed relief that reporters were no longer hounding her and Trudy for their feelings about their missing son. The press had moved on to the wrongful death of a black couple in Baton Rouge, and even the fact that Melissa was involved in a same-sex marriage did not have the journalistic allure of a possible race riot.

  At Martin’s suggestion, they said a prayer together for the black couple and their families. Afterward, Richard asked if anyone had seen George that day.

  Everyone admitted they hadn’t.

  “That’s odd,” said Richard. “I’m surprised he didn’t at least check in.”

  “Do you think he’s all right?” Melissa said.

  Delphine sniffed.

  “What?” Melissa asked.

  “Nothing,” Delphine replied. “Let’s just enjoy our dinner.”

  “No, you meant something.”

  Delphine laughed, but it was strained. “It was just a sniff, Melissa; this diner is a bit dusty.”

  “You are so full of it,” Melissa said, and Delphine looked more shocked than the comment warranted.

  “Girls…” Martin said.

  Melissa held up her palm to Martin and he shut up, but he shared a look of resignation with his older brother.

  Melissa continued. “Just spit it out, Delphine, you’ve never had trouble expressing your opinion before.”

  Delphine took on a haughty aspect they all recognized, even Trudy.

  “I just think it’s so like your father to try to garner sympathy by being absent.”

  “Maybe he’s absent because you’ve done nothing but make him feel unwelcome.”

  “I have not!” replied Delphine. “Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already gone back home to Seattle.”

  “I don’t think Pop w…” began Martin.

  “The boys asked him to come, Delphine, but it was on my behalf,” said Melissa, interrupting her brother. “He wouldn’t leave without telling everyone, especially me.”

  Delphine shook her head and picked up her fork, as if this would end the argument. She speared a bit of fried fish, then put it down. “Don’t you remember? Don’t any of you? Disappearing is what he does—it may be the only thing he’s truly good at!”

  Delphine’s voice had risen to a noticeable volume, and several other patrons turned to see what was going on.

  “All right, let’s keep this in the family,” Richard said softly

  “How long are you going to punish Daddy?” Melissa demanded.

  “Punish him? Seems I’m the only one who remembers how he abandoned us.”

  “He didn’t abandon us, Delphine. He needed to work,” Melissa replied.

  “You know so little, Melissa, and your memory is faulty. Father could have had a position right in town, but he chose to go out on the road…to get away from us…from Mama…from you.”

  “I know that,” Melissa said. “He admitted it to me at Uncle Louis’s funeral. It’s because I look so much like Mama.”

  “And you find nothing wrong with that? A father who abandons his family because one of them looks like her mother?”

  “His heart was broken, Del! I’m not saying he was perfect—far from—but he did the best he could. He and I made peace with this. Why can’t you?”

  “Why? Look at the three of you—you all completed high school with good grades and went on to college…because of me. And what do I have? What about me?” Delphine’s eyes turned glassy with tears.

  “You could have gone to college, Del, we all would have pitched in,” Richard said, and Martin nodded, as did Melissa.

  Delphine pointed to Melissa. “You have to admit, you did well because of me. I didn’t have time for anything else.”

  “You were a good guide, Del, but you’re my sister, not my mother. I got into college on a scholarship on my own.”

  Trudy squeezed Melissa’s hand.

  Richard looked at Delphine and spoke gently. “Del, no one is denying how much you gave us, but it’s not our fault you made the choices you did, and it’s not Daddy’s, either.”

  “I can’t believe all of you, turning on me like this…”

  At this point, the waitress walked over. She was nervous, and they could see the chef, a burly man with navy tattoos, watching them from the kitchen.

  “Folks,” the waitress said, “I need y’all to keep it down. Other diners are complaining.”

  “I’m leaving,” Delphine said, pushing her chair back. “Seems I’m to blame for everything.”

  “Del,” they protested, but she hurried out
.

  The waitress looked at them, feeling awkward. “I’m sorry…”

  “It’s all right,” Richard said, “we’ll just take the check.”

  —

  Back at the motel, Richard and Martin went by George and Jimmy’s room. They knocked, but there was no reply.

  “Think they left?” Martin asked.

  Richard shook his head. “Probably out tying one on…Maybe they met some girls.”

  Martin grinned. “Sounds like Pop. Should we wait around?”

  “What are we, their parents? We’ll catch them for breakfast tomorrow.”

  —

  In Boston, Thomas Kalmaku and his wife were on their way to bed when they heard Molly talking. They peeked into her room.

  Molly was in bed but sitting underneath the sheet. She had her flashlight on, which could shine in different colors. Right now the light was pink.

  “You can do it!” she said. “My daddy is a doctor, so you’ll know what to do if he gets hurt.”

  “Molly,” Thomas said, “who are you talking to?”

  There was a pause, followed by urgent whispering. Then, “Just a friend, Daddy.”

  “Do you have your phone with you?” Kate asked.

  “No, Mommy, that’s against the rules.” Molly said it like her mother should know better.

  “Come out of there,” Thomas said.

  Molly pulled down the sheet, making her hair fly every which way. She grinned at her parents. Next to her was her “magic” flashlight and a series of drawings of some kind of animal.

  “You’re supposed to be in bed, you pooka,” Kate said, smoothing out Molly’s hair, which was as red as her own.

  “I had to help Grampa,” said Molly.

  “Oh, I see,” said Kate, smiling. “You get it all done?”

  “I think so, Mommy.” Molly looked at her father. “Daddy, why can’t Great-great Uncle Will go to Louisiana if he wants to?”

  Because he’s dead, thought Thomas, who then said, “I think that’s a question for your grampa. I haven’t seen Great-uncle Will since I was a little boy.”

  Molly nodded but was clearly unsatisfied.

  “Time for sleep now,” Kate said, removing the drawings and flashlight. “No more talking, reading, drawing, or what have you.”

  “And no playing the tuba or training lions,” added Thomas.

  Molly giggled. “I don’t have a tuba, Daddy, and no lions, either.”

  They tucked her in and kissed her good night.

  Thomas turned out the light. She had proclaimed at three that she didn’t need one.

  As he drew the door almost closed, he heard his daughter whisper, “You’d better hurry. I think he’s in trouble.”

  Thomas looked at his wife, shook his head, then followed her to their bedroom.

  Chapter 27

  ATCHAFALAYA SWAMP, LOUISIANA

  Jimmy came back to consciousness as a deliciously cool and soothing compound was gently applied to his burns.

  He ached, but he could feel something healing seeping into his flesh, something herbal and powerful.

  He heard his wife, Rose, singing to him, an old Tlingit song about resting after the sun had set.

  Rose, who had died of cancer some thirteen years ago.

  I’m not going to open my eyes, he thought. If I do, she won’t be there.

  “You have to open your eyes, James,” she said tenderly. “Your friend is in trouble.”

  “If I do,” he said in a hoarse whisper, “you will be gone. I just want to be with you a little while longer, Rose.”

  Her hand, cool and soothing, smoothed his brow. “Du kacháwli, don’t you know I am always with you? Even now I wait for the day you will cross the Bridge of Lights and be with me again. Don’t be afraid…”

  Du kacháwli. “My sweetheart.” It seemed like an eternity since he had heard her sweet voice call him so.

  And she was right, he could not tarry, not while George and his grandson were in peril.

  He opened his eyes, and Rose was indeed gone. His heart ached, but he was thankful for that brief moment with her.

  “Hello,” came a sweet, feminine voice. It was not Rose but someone younger. He levered himself into a sitting position, although his joints grated and burned.

  The moon had finally come out, and he looked to see who was talking to him, expecting a small child.

  There, next to him, was the strangest creature he had ever seen.

  It was like a rabbit but colored a deep burnt sienna with a golden yellow neck and belly. The creature had both stripes and spots in black and dark brown. Stranger still, it had tiny antlers on its head and a tail like a raccoon.

  On its chest, a tiny rose glowed.

  Okay, thought Jimmy, I am either dreaming or dead.

  The creature laughed, and it was a sweet sound.

  “You are very much alive, Jimmy Kalmaku. I was sent by your granddaughter Molly to look after you.”

  The creature stood on its haunches to show him a glowing rose on her chest. Her movements were unsteady.

  “This rose is to remind you of your Rose.” The creature almost fell over, then recovered.

  “Are you all right?” Jimmy asked.

  “Oh, I’ll be fine. Molly’s spirit hand isn’t too steady, but I’m getting better. Now, let’s take a look at you.”

  The creature’s front paws were like a raccoon’s, clever and almost human. It gently peeled away one of the mud packs that covered Jimmy’s burn. Underneath, the skin was pink but healing. The creature nodded with satisfaction, then looked at him.

  “Nasty creatures! Those wounds were already infected! You’d have been dead in an hour.”

  “What…please, what is your name?”

  The creature smiled sweetly. “My name is Shay-Shay Moon, Jimmy, and I am honored to be one of your spirit guides.”

  Jimmy held out his hand, and Shay-Shay Moon took it in her human-like paws and kissed it.

  “Can you take me to George?” he asked.

  “Yes, but…” she gazed at him intently, and her little brow furrowed in worry. “You are in a great deal of pain…much of the time,” she said sorrowfully.

  Jimmy nodded. “Arthritis happens when you get old.”

  Shay-Shay Moon shook her head. “No, that’s not what’s wrong.” She peered intently at one of his knees and her eyes seemed to radiate a faint and golden glow.

  She looked at him. “When you took on the mask of Bobby Slater, you invited the Faceless One into you. He has infected you—your bones are turning to black ice. It is spreading, Jimmy, bringing a chill you can never warm and a burning knife to every movement. Eventually, you will be unable to move about. When it reaches your skull…”

  The little creature wiped a tear away.

  It sounded like an agonizing death. Was this why Raven had called him back, so he could laugh at his suffering?

  Shay-Shay Moon shook her head. “You are needed, Jimmy, and there are perils ahead. I can fix you.”

  “Oh…I thought you were crying because I was done for.”

  She shook her head again, her expression full of regret. “No, I was crying because I have to burn the black ice out of you, and it will hurt terribly.”

  “And afterward?”

  “You should be able to move very well, without any suffering.”

  “Then, by all means, Shay-Shay Moon…”

  “There might be some herbs that could lessen the pain.”

  Jimmy shook his head emphatically. “No time.” He straightened up and hissed in pain.

  She hopped in his lap and pushed his chest. She was surprisingly strong for such a tiny creature.

  “Lie down.”

  He did as she asked, and she moved down and placed her hands on his knees.

  Jimmy took a deep breath. “Whenever you’re…”

  And then he began screaming.

  —

  Jimmy woke around 11 P.M. and found Shay-Shay Moon wiping his brow with a moist c
lump of moss.

  “How long was I out,” he asked hoarsely.

  “Not quite an hour,” she said. “How do you feel?”

  He sat up, for the first time in months without a stabbing twinge in his lower back. He flexed and bent his arms, then stood without having to grab onto a support.

  No pain!

  Jimmy looked at her, a smile spreading across his face.

  “It’s all gone! Even…” he swung his bad leg. “Even the pain in my hip from the accident.”

  Shay-Shay Moon smiled. “I think even that might have been aggravated by the Faceless One.”

  “Thank you,” Jimmy said. “I’m afraid I have no salmon or tobacco to give you as a gift.”

  Shay-Shay Moon laughed. “You forget I was created by your granddaughter. Perhaps, when this is over, you can leave me a slice of birthday cake…with ice cream?”

  Jimmy nodded, smiling, but wondered if he would live to honor such a request.

  “Let’s see that you do survive,” said Shay-Shay Moon. “Come on.”

  She led him through the swamp, her gait and motion more assured and graceful with each step. Jimmy, feeling better than he had in years, followed with the quick and sure steps of a man half his age.

  Three luminous blue alligators surfaced and surrounded them. In front was the scaly horror that must have roamed the Mesozoic swamps and marshes.

  They hissed, their mouths open to show sparks arcing from upper to lower teeth and back.

  Shay-Shay Moon bent low on her haunches and gathered up a half cup of mud, which she quickly rolled into little balls.

  “Begone!” she cried, whirling and throwing each sphere with unerring accuracy.

  Halfway to their targets, the mud spheres turned to bright pink fireballs, exploding within the mouths of the ghost gators.

  The two smaller creatures blew apart, leaving nothing but a rancid-smelling vapor.

  The prehistoric monster was injured severely and roared before slipping down into the water and swimming off.

  “Smelly old things,” Shay-Shay Moon said. “The big one is a favorite of Dabo Muu, so he’s harder to unmake.”

  “It would seem I owe you two pieces of cake,” Jimmy said.

  “I also like shortbread cookies,” she said shyly.

  Jimmy smiled but then frowned. Dabo Muu. He had nearly forgotten their encounter in Seattle.