Deadlight Jack

Home > Other > Deadlight Jack > Page 24
Deadlight Jack Page 24

by Mark Onspaugh


  Mo’ssah spoke, and although her speech was a language of the Goddess, they all understood.

  “You are a child of the swamp, poor thing. You have been a slave to this usurper for far too long. Come rest in the cool waters and sleep, at long last.”

  The creature hesitated, then moved toward her, all hostility gone.

  She patted it on the head, like a great dog, and the creature sighed. It sank beneath the surface and did not return.

  Deadlight Jack called forth the ghost children.

  “Here is a fine meal for you, my dear ones!”

  They approached Mo’ssah, hungry for the abundant life force she emitted.

  Her look softened, and she spoke to them each in their native language, simultaneously.

  “My little ones. I cannot return you to your homes, but there is a shining place I can take you to. Leave your master and I will guide you safely.”

  Her smile was a glorious thing, and everyone who witnessed it felt uplifted, except for Deadlight Jack.

  The little wraiths basked in her countenance. Then, as one, they turned to look at Deadlight Jack.

  “Take her!” he screamed, his voice quavering a little.

  As one, they shook their heads and gathered behind the green woman.

  Deadlight Jack gestured, and now the undead of Maison Lémieux came forth, shambling and groaning, their ruined and ravaged corpses not really suited for travel.

  When those abject souls saw her, they recognized her at once. She was the one their mothers had told them about at bedtime, reading from the much beloved Tales of the Green Lady by Gaston Pelletier. The grisly apparitions fell to their knees in slack-jawed awe.

  Mo’ssah opened her arms to them, and they hurried to her, jostling Deadlight Jack in their eagerness to return to some semblance of innocence and purity.

  She dipped her hand in the water of the Atchafalaya and sprinkled them with it, and they sighed happily. When she saw that the wheeled tub of Herr Graff was mired in the mud, she sent forth a small bird with the water in its beak, that Herr Graff might be cleansed.

  Those corrupt and dreadful creatures were made whole, then returned to dust and taken forth on the currents of the great river.

  The great tub of Herr Graff disintegrated into a fine powder that was borne away on the breeze.

  Deadlight Jack turned to the children, George, and Jimmy as if they might somehow help him to vanquish the Swamp Woman. Donny took George’s hand and squeezed it, and George squeezed back.

  “Foxfire!” Mo’ssah called. “Will-o-the-Wisp! Jack of Lamps! Lord Coldfire! John of the Deadlights! I summon you before me for crimes against Nature! For defiling my realm and making my children suffer. For subjugating my creatures and willfully polluting my kingdom with corruption and the foulest, most wicked toxins of mind and heart.”

  “You,” he sneered. “And where have you been while I have played my games and had my pranks? Where were you when I first came to this land, so long ago? And I am no longer the simple Trickster who found his way here. I have accumulated wisdom and power.” He pointed to his top hat. “I carry the bones of a dozen or more children, and the eye of the Reptile God, Dabo Muu. Do you really think your pretty feathers and water tricks are any match for me? Go back to the stagnant pool where you sleep and let me deal with my wayward charges!”

  The Green Lady smiled, and both George and Jimmy thought they might spend the rest of eternity gazing at that smile.

  “You may be right,” she said. “I have been too long away. Sometimes we forget how quickly time passes for those who are mortal—and how much mischief our brethren may become involved in. I will not let this place go unprotected again. As for you…”

  She turned and gestured at the water behind her. The water boiled and steamed, and suddenly it was as if it had become a vast plain of glass.

  And standing on that shining, moonlit expanse appeared the spirit of every person or creature who had ever been toyed with and killed by Deadlight Jack. It was a formidable number and included the ghost children and the household staff and original owners of Maison Lémieux. There were men and women and children of every decade and every color. There were soldiers and bandits, pirates and musicians. Nuns, prostitutes, carpetbaggers, and runaway slaves. Tourists, sportsmen, fugitives, and lovers. Meth addicts, missionaries, traveling salesmen, and orphans. All of them had endured an uneasy rest on the bottom of the Atchafalaya.

  Deadlight Jack tried to conjure another rift to Elsewhere, but he was shaken by the multitude of eyes on him and could not remember the forbidden words in their proper order. He became angry then, like a child who is told he must put away his toys and go to bed.

  Anger did give him power, and he created a sphere of intense heat and power, a green orb shot through with violet sparks. He launched it with surprising swiftness at the Green Lady.

  She countered by moving her staff in a smooth arc, and the waters of the Atchafalaya followed its path. The fireball hit the water, and though some of the water boiled away, there was enough in that cool curtain to dissipate the foul energy of the attack.

  Deadlight Jack’s salamanders hopped down into his hands, and then leaped toward Mo’ssah. They blazed like the hottest fires of Hell.

  George gasped, remembering what had happened to Jimmy.

  The Swamp Goddess stuck her staff in the water, where it remained upright. She held out her hands, and a sphere of green water appeared in each. She tossed these gently, and the salamanders were pulled to them. They struggled and writhed, but they were enveloped in the green orbs. The green water went cloudy, then cleared.

  Deadlight Jack screamed as if he were being burned alive.

  The salamanders were ordinary amphibians again, colored a subdued orange and black. The water spheres returned to her hands and dissipated. The salamanders scampered down her arms and were lost in her skirts.

  George had been afraid for her, but now he realized that Deadlight Jack had only taken residence in the swamp—she was the swamp.

  Deadlight Jack tried to manifest more of his eldritch fire, but the Green Lady approached him and gently took his hands. His many human masks fell away like dark and pale leaves scattered by the wind into the waters and across the grasses.

  What was left was a face of exquisite melancholy, etched in stone—it moved from ivory to jet, from garnet to milk of sulfur and back again. It finally stopped, a patchwork mask of races and ethnicities, a proto-mask crude and unrefined.

  “Let go,” the Green Lady pleaded. “With your power you could do so much good. You could aid those who were lost, guiding them back to home and safety. You could become a creature loved rather than feared and reviled. And I would love you as my own son.”

  Deadlight Jack hesitated, and the entire company watching seemed to hold its breath.

  Then he shook his head and that final mask fell away, showing nothing but an Abyss dominated by eyes like cruel stars and jagged teeth like knives of cold fire.

  “No! I am Professor Foxfire! I wield the cold fire and carry the lost and bewildered away to my fell workshop! I am the Will-o’-the Wisp, the Jack of Fires—I claimed the Deadlights from the coldest corners of Elsewhere, and I’ll find them again. I bow to no one, especially you,” he sneered.

  Mo’ssah nodded, as if this was what she expected. She turned to the many spirits she had gathered there in that sad and mournful spot.

  “He is yours,” she said, and moved away as a thousand spectres fell upon Deadlight Jack and had their vengeance.

  At last, they turned from the spot. There was nothing of Deadlight Jack but his hat, and that winked out of existence before anyone could claim it.

  Jimmy wondered if he was truly done.

  The spirits, now at peace, moved away to find their places of rest. One boy waved to Gretel and George knew this must be Hansel. She blew him a kiss and he went with the others. One spirit lingered. It was Pappaw Boudreaux, George’s grandfather. He waved to George, smiling the smile that h
ad accompanied the gift of a puppy so long ago.

  George waved back, his vision blurring. The old man walked away and was soon lost in the mist.

  The Green Lady came to George then. Much taller than he, she bent and gently touched his cheek with her hand. Up close, he could see her skin was a fine and velvety moss, and her eyes were the green of sunlit grass.

  “You are a good man, George Watters. You and yours are always welcome here.” And then, her face shifted, and it was his mother’s sweet face. Oh! So beautiful! He had forgotten how lovely she had been, and now he wept openly.

  “My George,” she said, “I am so very proud of you! Je t’aime, mon fils.”

  “Je t’aime, Mama,” he whispered.

  She bent down to Donny and he hugged her neck. She smiled and said, “You take care of your grandpère now, yes?”

  Donny nodded.

  The Green Lady straightened. She nodded to Jimmy and he bowed. Then she moved off, until she, too, disappeared in the mist.

  The lights of the campground were about a mile off. Farther than they had been led to believe when Deadlight Jack was there but not too great a distance. With Deadlight Jack defeated, George could see that all the children were more alert, more energized.

  Of course, it would help if they had some food and water, but George knew he couldn’t expect the Green Lady to cater their supper.

  “Shall we go home?” he said, and the children nodded. Even Ethan smiled.

  They skirted the lagoon, ever mindful for alligators. The air was sweeter, now, for whatever miasma Deadlight Jack had manifested with his presence had now dissipated with him.

  They saw a lanternlight through the undergrowth and made for it.

  They came upon an old campground, one that must have been due for refurbishing. The picnic tables there were old and rickety, and the spot for a vehicle or tent had gone over to weeds and shrubs.

  In the center of one table was a large picnic basket, a bucket of water, and an old tin cup.

  Fearing a trap, Jimmy volunteered to go first.

  “It should be me,” George said.

  “You need to look after Donny,” Jimmy said, and George couldn’t argue with that.

  Jimmy went forward, trying to sense anything evil or duplicitous about, but he only heard the crickets and the night birds.

  The picnic basket was filled with fried catfish, boiled crawfish, and hushpuppies. They were steaming hot, and Jimmy had to wipe drool from the corners of his mouth.

  “I think it’s okay,” he said.

  They came forward quickly at the promise of food, their wariness replaced by the eagerness of youth.

  Jimmy and George cautioned them not to eat or drink too much or too quickly, knowing such warnings were useless.

  The two of them waited for the children to eat. If there was anything left, they’d have some.

  The children knew they were doing this and left them each two pieces of fish, a crawdad, and a hushpuppy.

  To Jimmy and George, it was the most delicious meal they had ever eaten.

  Gail, Jeremy, and Warren all got sick from eating too quickly, and they tended to them. Jimmy hoped that they retained some of the calories, but they’d be back to civilization soon enough.

  At that thought, Jimmy shivered.

  Something was wrong.

  His first thought was that the food had been poisoned, and he rebuked himself for not throwing it all in the lagoon.

  But that wasn’t it.

  Ethan whimpered, and Jimmy looked in the same direction as the boy.

  Dabo Muu was coming.

  Again, despite not being designed for bipedal locomotion, he moved easily enough on his stubby hind legs, his tail providing balance.

  “Hello, Jimmy Kalmaku,” the alligator said. “I hope you enjoyed your supper.”

  The children cowered behind George, all except Donny and Trang, who each held one of George’s hands.

  The empty eye socket was still suppurating, and Jimmy couldn’t stop himself from thinking of that old Beatles’ lyric…

  Yellow matter custard, dripping from a dead dog’s eye…

  “Unsightly, isn’t it?” said Dabo Muu, gesturing to his eye. “Makes it hard to catch my own dinner.”

  Jimmy said nothing.

  “I wonder if you could take a look at it for me, Jimmy Kalmaku? Perhaps treat it with a poultice of herbs and mud?”

  Jimmy shook his head.

  “You would deny me, after I helped you in Los Angeles? After I advised you to come here? After I fed you and your weary band of travelers?”

  “I am grateful for your aid, Dabo Muu, but I don’t trust you.”

  The old god hissed. “Come here,” he said, and gestured toward Jimmy’s chest.

  Jimmy felt a slight bit of heat on his sternum, and that was all.

  “What trickery is this?” demanded Dabo Muu. “I said come here!”

  Jimmy opened his shirt to show his chest free of the spiral scar.

  Dabo Muu hissed again. “Deadlight Jack promised me you and a child if I gave him one of my farseeing eyes and my talismans. You will give me one of your eyes, and the child will be the beginning of my new necklace.”

  “Begone,” Jimmy said. “I am giving you nothing, certainly not a child.”

  “You owe me!” the albino alligator shrieked, and Ethan whimpered.

  “Oh, that one fears me…I like that,” Dabo Muu declared. “I’ll take him. He is weak and it is doubtful anyone will miss him, but his fear is powerful.”

  “You’ll have to kill me,” said Jimmy, and Trang slipped Doug-Ray’s knife into his hand.

  “That has been my plan all along, old man,” Dabo Muu said.

  Jimmy thought he might die in this battle, but perhaps he could hold off Dabu Muu long enough for George and the kids to get to safety. Once out of the swamp, they should be safe.

  Dabo Muu gave a hissing wheeze, which Jimmy remembered was the old reptile’s way of laughing. Dabo Muu showed his great teeth, yellowed with age but unbroken, and hideously sharp.

  Dabo Muu suddenly lunged with surprising quickness.

  Before he could take Jimmy’s head off, Jimmy was able to dodge to the left and roll, something he would have been unable to do if the black ice had still plagued him.

  Dabo Muu hissed. “You have grown quick, Raven-son. No matter, I will feed on you and all those you hold dear.”

  Before either of them could make a move, Shay-Shay Moon skittered in under Dabo Muu’s legs.

  The children and George, who had seen many unbelievable sights that night, goggled at this new arrival.

  Shay-Shay Moon stood between Jimmy and Dabo Muu and raised herself to her full fifteen inches in height.

  “Get out, you old lizard,” she spit, “before I make a suitcase out of you.”

  Dabo Muu gave out an actual bellow but not in anger. “You? I will gobble you up, little rabbit, and pick the leavings out of my gums with your tiny antlers.”

  Shay-Shay Moon stepped forward, and as she did, she grew into a giant deer. Colored pure gold, she stood seven feet at the shoulder, and her antlers, a sort of cross between those of a moose and a deer, were twelve feet across. On her breast, the red rose blazed.

  Before Dabo Muu could react, she lowered her head and swung upward with one savage jerk, gutting the foul creature. He grabbed feebly at his entrails, and she swung her head again, her razor-sharp antlers decapitating Dabo Muu and sending his head far out in the water, where several gators fought over it. She tossed his body there as well, and the congregation feasted on the dead god.

  Shay-Shay Moon returned to her normal aspect and tried to wipe the blood and ichor from her antlers. Jimmy bent down and used his handkerchief.

  “Once again I am in your debt, Shay-Shay Moon.”

  “I am sorry I was gone so long. I needed Molly to give me a good form for fighting. We found the Irish elk in her encyclopedia.”

  “You are truly formidable in either aspect,” h
e said.

  The little creature blushed with pleasure. She looked at him and took his hand. “I will be here whenever you need me—just over the Bridge of Lights, at the edge of the Spirit World.”

  He nodded. “Please…” he choked up for a moment, then went on. “Please tell Rose I think of her every day.”

  “I will. Oh! She has a message for you: ‘Time for some new boots.’ ”

  Jimmy laughed. It was so Rose, and he both delighted in it and missed her all the more.

  Each of the children wanted to pet Shay-Shay Moon, and she patiently let them do so. Jimmy thought she might have enjoyed that as much as birthday cake.

  When George bent down to her, tears of gratitude ran down his cheeks.

  “Thank you for saving my friend,” he said.

  She nodded. She motioned for him to bend lower, and he did. “Jimmy needs you. Thank you for saving his life by being his friend.” And then she kissed him, tickling him with her whiskers.

  Shay-Shay Moon accompanied them until the campground was only a hundred feet away, then she waved goodbye and scampered off to find her way back to the Spirit World.

  Chapter 29

  ATCHAFALAYA SWAMP, LOUISIANA

  They reached the first campsite as the sun was beginning to rise, but it was deserted. Everyone was anxious to put the Atchafalaya far behind them, at least for a while, but George and Jimmy insisted they rest for a few minutes.

  The kids sat at the picnic table, watching the direction from which they had come.

  He’s gone, but it’s going to be a long while before they stop looking over their shoulders, George thought.

  While they sat there, Jimmy and George told the kids that no grown-up would believe their story about a man who could become a ball of light, of ghost children, walking corpses, and talking alligators.

  The children were a little uneasy about lying, but all of them were used to adults not believing them, even when they told the truth. They all decided to describe the creature that called itself Professor Foxfire as just a man in a top hat who always kept his face in shadow or masked. Trang and Donny thought they’d be able to point the way to Maison Lémieux, and they all decided that would corroborate their story. If the sheriffs found anything weird or occult there, that was their business.

 

‹ Prev