Under-Heaven

by Tim Greaton

  From someone else about someplace else, I might have taken my uncle’s comment to be a metaphor, but after everything I’d seen it de­finitely wouldn’t have surprised me if flame-broiled members of the damned were common. I also wouldn’t have been surprised to find my uncle had broiled a few souls himself.

  “It has to be you, Uncle Finneus. You have to go and save Vicky!”

  “Nathaniel, what you’re asking is not—”

  “I don’t care about the excuses, Uncle Finneus. I don’t read the lights as well as the angels yet, but I don’t think she has much time. You have to go—now!”

  Uncle Finneus went to the living room window. He stared out toward the moonlit fountain.

  “I’m sorry, young scalawag, but I won’t do it.”

  I don’t think any statement in my young life had ever made me as angry as his simple refusal. I didn’t have to glance down to know that my sneakers and pants had turned full color. I also wouldn’t have been surprised to find my shirt had begun to turn as well.

  “I’ll banish you.” I told him. “I swear to God I will. I’ll never let you back here. And if I have to, I’ll trade houses with someone so that the demons will come for you right in your basement. I swear, Uncle, you’ll do this thing for me, for Vicky, or you’ll never see the light of my Under-Heaven ever again!”

  His eyes grew cold and black. There was a quiet fury beneath his gray demeanor that for some reason reminded me of a shark. I could feel his hatred blaze up toward me, but then his eyes swung up and down my torso and his gaze softened.

  “Easy, lad,” he said. “Calm yourself. I’ll do it. If you get much darker you’ll be joining me down there.”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “As a matter of fact, if you don’t go help her, I’ll damn myself so that I can.”

  Uncle Finneus smiled.

  “That’s my boy,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “Sacrifice is always good for the complexion.”

  I glanced down and, sure enough, my clothing was whitening before my eyes.

  “You have to go, Uncle. I can’t give you the choice.”

  He took his hat off and fingered the brim, as he was prone to do when he was nervous.

  “I’ll go, young Nathaniel. But, if by some chance I manage to claw my way past those vermin again, you have to promise to let me stay here as long as you’re here with no more threats—also, no more banishings to the basement. Those goody-two-shoes angels can either take me or take a hike.”

  I squirmed at the thought of Aunt Alice being forced to be in the same room with Uncle Finneus. I knew that she would never do it, and that I didn’t want to lose seeing her completely. The most important thing, however, was to help Vicky immediately. I offered a quick counter-proposal and was fully prepared to go along with his first version if he turned it down.

  “I won’t banish you,” I said, “but you have to agree to work around the angels. Turn invisible or volunteer to go downstairs on your own. Agreed?”

  From the way his face broke into a wide grin, I knew for certain there would come a day I’d regret that deal.

  “Young, Nathaniel, we have a meeting of the minds.” He placed his hat back atop his head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an errand to run.” He tipped his hat to me, shimmered for a moment and then was gone.

  I left the door open in my panicked haste and raced to the fountain. Holding my breath, I feel to my knees and smoothed the water with a trembling hand. Though I was relieved to see Vicky’s life-light, it was still solidly red. Zooming in on the scene, I prayed that Uncle Finneus would have time.

  She was still in the car with Kevin. I felt guilty but pressed through the foggy windows and watched from a close vantage as he groped her various body parts. She was still dressed, but his hands had adeptly found ways inside her tight clothing. At one point, he tore several buttons off her blouse to get more easily at her black and pink bra. For reasons I doubted I’d ever understand, she seemed to enjoy his mauling. She giggled as her own hands reached to unbuckle his belt.

  I blocked out my disgust and tried to concentrate on where the danger might come from. This wasn’t the first time they had groped each other, and it had never created a problem before. I studied his expression and couldn’t see anything to indicate he had murder or suicide on his mind. I backed out of the Mustang again and continued backing until I was about twenty feet above the car. The moonlight was dim but I could see the weed-covered road.

  Just then, I noticed a car pulling down along the wide, paved rest area. When the vehicle reached the broken chain, its headlights switched off but it continued moving slowly down the narrow pathway. I knew immediately this was the source of Vicky’s danger. My muscles tensed as I stared down at the unfolding scene.

  22

  Desperation

  It had been about a week since Jesse’s dad had last shown up at the schoolyard. Jesse hoped his father was someplace warm, someplace where he could be comfortable sleeping outside if he had to. His kindergarten class had been finger-painting for most of the morning, and he was secretly pleased that his fingers still had some orange and brown stains as he followed the others out onto the playground. Jesse had forgotten his SpongeBob SquarePants gloves at home. A snowball pelted him in the chest as his foot hit left the last step. There was so little snow left that Heath must have scooped up every last bit just to make the one ball.

  Jesse’s desperately searched for a weapon of his own, finally spotting a small snowy area under the merry-go-round. He raced over and scooped up a handful, squeezing the cold ball with his bare hands.

  It didn’t take long to find Heath ducked down behind the slide. Jesse jumped up and pretended to pitch his ball.

  Heath ducked.

  As his friend crouched, Jesse let the snowball fly for real. It caught his best friend solidly in the shoulder.

  “Hey, that hurt,” Heath blurted.

  “Don’t start the game if you can’t take the pain,” Jesse chanted.

  “That’s a good one, kid,” a man’s voice said to him from over near the fence. Unlike his father, this man stood out in the open where the teachers could have seen him.

  “You’re Jesse, right?” the man said.

  Jesse didn’t answer. He glanced over to Heath expecting to see a reconstructed snowball flying his way, but his friend had stopped to watch the man by the fence, too.

  “I’m a friend of your dad’s,” the man continued. “He asked me to stop by and see you.”

  Jesse glanced up and down the street. Sure enough, there was a black car that looked like the one his father had gotten into a week or so before.

  “Where’s my dad?”

  The big man with the beard shrugged.

  “The thing I’m supposed to tell you,” he said, “it’s kind of personal. You should come over here so no one else will hear.”

  Jesse glanced over to see Heath shaking his head not to do it. Jesse scanned the busy playground. Ms. Brentwood was standing beside the busy slides, her back to Jesse and the stranger.

  “I can hear you from here,” Jesse said.

  The man shrugged.

  “Sorry then.” He turned as if to leave.

  “What did my dad want?” Jesse asked, taking a step toward the fence.

  “Sorry, kid,” the man said, paused on the sidewalk, “but I can’t have your dad’s private information spread all over the school. He needs your help, but if you don’t want to talk to me, I’ll just go.”

  “Okay,” Jesse said. He skirted the merry-go-round and approached the fence. Though Jesse loved his father, he had often been frightened of his father’s friends. This big man was no exception. He was tall, a lot taller than his father, and wide like a bear. His black beard and mustache were well groomed but still added to the bearish appearance. His clothes were clean and neat, and he wore several gold chains around his neck. Though it was cold enough that Jesse could see his own breath in the air, this man wore no jacket.

  Jesse stopp
ed about ten feet from the fence.

  “Is my dad okay?”

  The big man shook his head. “I’m sorry, kid, but he’s not doing too good.”

  Jesse felt a knot forming at the center of his stomach. Hadn’t his father made it to a warm place?

  “What did he want you to tell me?”

  The big man seemed to think for a moment. Then he smiled and fumbled around in his pockets before pulling out a crumbled piece of paper.

  “Actually, he gave me this note for you.”

  Jesse could only remember one other time when his father had given him a note. It was on his fourth birthday. Of course, Jesse couldn’t read, so his father had drawn a picture of a boy and a toy store. He said that for his birthday, Jesse would get to choose anything he wanted at the toy store. Jesse remembered wanting an expensive video game with four controllers, but he wound up settling for a Superman board game. It was a great present, though, because his father and he had played that game at least five times in a row, and each time Jesse had won.

  Jesse wondered what might be on this new note.

  “Here,” the man said. He pushed the note through the fence with two fingers.

  Jesse looked back and made sure Heath was still watching. His friend hadn’t moved and was still shaking his head “no.” Though Jesse knew his friend was right, he also knew that he couldn’t just ignore a message from his father.

  Bravely, he walked over to grab the crumpled paper.

  Jesse didn’t know how it was possible, but as he approached, a huge section of the fence came loose and the big man grabbed at him. Jesse dodged backwards, but his boots slipped on the icy grass. He fell. The man threw the broken fence off to the side and snatched Jesse up into his huge, bear-like arms. Jesse kicked and struggled, but he knew he was having no effect. He bit into the man’s arm as hard as he could.

  The fist that struck his temple was nearly as large as his head, but it felt like something more the size of a truck. Jesse’s neck snapped sideways. His eyesight blurred. He tasted blood as the man yanked him up by the hair. Pain erupted from his scalp. Jesse struggled to remain conscious as he caught sight of his friend Heath running toward Ms. Brentwood.

  A second fist crashed into his head.

  Then the world went black.

  I prayed that Finneus would be quick as I watched the newly arrived car stop on the narrow, gravel road about two hundred feet from Kevin’s car. I was tempted to rush back into the Mustang and try to get through to Vicky, but I knew it would be useless. Already car doors were opening and three men were getting out.

  I lowered my view until it felt like I was only ten feet above them. They were in their mid-twenties, maybe early thirties. Two wore dark dress suits with matching hats. One was dressed in casual slacks and a button up shirt; he had no tie, no jacket and no hat. From the way he motioned to the others, I surmised that he was in charge. My mind chilled at the sight of the two rifles the suited men were carrying. The leader removed a pistol from his belt.

  Terror wracked me. Finneus had only moments to do something before my sister would be killed.

  Hurry! Please Hurry!

  I wanted to swoop down and scatter these men to the dark forest, but I knew my presence was only an illusion of the fountain pool. I had no more status on Earth than the ghosts that populated The Shadow Knows radio show. My sister was in danger and I could do nothing but watch and pray.

  I closed my eyes and asked God for help. It may seem ironic, but I prayed for him to help one of the damned get to Earth in time to save my sister. And to stack sacrilege on top of sacrilege, I realized that I was asking God to assist in breaking the “no interference” rule he created. Nevertheless, I prayed. I didn’t care about the implications; I only cared about saving Vicky!

  I zoomed into the car to see my sister writhing with what looked like pain. Kevin was on top of her, pounding his pelvis against hers. I knew what sex looked like; not only had I briefly imposed on similar scenes between her and Kevin over the last few months, I had first seen sex with my living eyes during my last summer on Earth. I remember interrupting my parents by accident on a Saturday afternoon when they thought Whiskey and I were still out on the woods trails. I must admit, watching my parents together had been a surprise but at least seemed natural. It was nothing like seeing this criminal with my sister. It would have felt wrong to me, even if he hadn’t placed her in mortal danger.

  Realizing Vicky was almost out of time, I zoomed up through the roof to see all three men walking toward Kevin’s Mustang with their gun muzzles pointed straight at it.

  “Get here soon, Uncle,” I whispered. “Get here soon.”

  They were only a hundred feet from the car now. I scanned the area for signs of other people. Nothing. I rose a hundred feet above them to get a wider vantage.

  Still nothing—

  No, wait!

  Just slowing to turn off Route 146 into the rest area was a tractor-trailer. It had to be Uncle Finneus! Anxiously, I watched as it crept up the paved parking area.

  “Hurry!” I uttered, wishing that my uncle could hear me. I gauged the time and distance. My heart rose to a lump in my throat. The men were closing in on Kevin’s car, less than fifty feet—close enough to shoot the windows out, close enough to kill my sister.

  I looked to the truck, back to the men. Uncle Finneus would be too late. I had to do something, but what!

  I soared down and into my sister.

  Suddenly, the car exploded with sound. I could hear Kevin’s grunts and her tiny but continual screams. It was impossible to see anything because her eyes were closed.

  “Vicky!” I screamed into her mind. “Vicky, you’re in danger!”

  Her tiny screams turned to breathy whispers. “I love you, Kevin. I love—”

  My warning completely unheard, I bolted out of her mind but remained inside the car. Vicky was below me her eyes closed in apparent bliss. I imagined that just outside the windows, fingers were closing on triggers and that at any moment glass and steel would explode inward. I needed to help in some way, but I had no power there! I was nothing more than a helpless, invisible sightseer. And now I would be forced to watch the murder of my last family member. Whiskey had died so that Vicky could live, but apparently cruel fate had decided that not one of us should be left alive.

  Impotent to help, I soared high above the car. Uncle Finneus’ truck had stopped back near the broken chain, probably finding the gravel extension too narrow for such a wide vehicle to navigate. I strained my view but could see no sign of a driver running or walking towards the tragedy that was about to ensue.

  I knew my uncle had failed. My sister was doomed.

  Only a few feet from the car, the three men fanned out until three separate gun barrels were pointed toward the Mustang’s fogged up windows from different angles. I despaired because I knew that when the shooting began there would be no place for Vicky to hide.

  “Vicky!” I screamed. “Vicky, you have to run!”

  Though my screams were inaudible on Earth, I knew they would ring out loudly in my Under-Heaven, even louder than the roar of the water cascading into the fountain pool. Drawn by my celebrity status and the ruckus, I imagined the dead were beginning to surround the fountain. I didn’t care. Let them gawk. At that moment, my only concern was for my sister, and with every fraction of a second, her chances for continued life were slipping away.

  “Uncle Finneus, HURRY!”

  Suddenly, the sky above me moved. No, not the sky, a mass of blackness, and that blackness soon resolved itself into a swarm of bats! The feral, black cloud swooped down from the sky and smeared itself between the three men and Kevin’s car. The blackness writhed and surged around the men. I could see flashes of light that might have been gunshots, but the blackness was so pervasive it was impossible to know for sure.

  Suddenly, the two suited men broke loose from the coal-colored cloud and ran toward their car. I could see moonlight glistening off the blood that covered t
heir hands and cheeks. Only tiny bits of their exposed flesh remained untouched.

  The bats, which seemed to have initially focused on the man in charge, suddenly surged toward the two remaining men. Their leader lay prone and immobile on the gravel below me, his light-colored leisure suit stained crimson and shredded beyond recognition. I chose not to view his body from any closer vantage and was thankful he had fallen facedown.

  Suddenly, lights from the newcomer’s car illuminated the private road. Apparently the thugs had made it to the safety of their car. The vehicle kicked up dirt in a wide circle and sped away toward the rest area. Then, suddenly, it swerved left and struck a large hemlock tree. Hundreds of bats escaped out through the shattered windshield. I didn’t need to look to know only dead men remained inside.

  Uncle Finneus had made it in time.

  I backed myself thousands of feet into the sky until I could see only the life-lights. My sister’s beacon had returned to a healthy shade of yellow. Kevin’s, however, remained a perilous shade of pink. Apparently, Mr. Benarrio’s seminar wasn’t yet over.

  I allowed my view to descend again, just in time to see both Kevin and Vicky get out of the car. In his hand, Kevin pointed a gun outward as his head darted from the man in the road to the demolished car and back again. With his booted foot, Kevin rolled the man in the leisure suit over. He seemed to recognize the face because he began to laugh. He was still laughing as my sister raced away from him. She passed the discarded guns and the wrecked car and just kept running.

  I could see the tractor-trailer still parked in the rest stop ahead of her. I wondered if the truck’s presence was a gift of good fortune or part of Uncle Finneus’ plan. Either way, Vicky ran to the trucker’s cab. I followed her in and watched as the middle-aged driver agreed to give her a ride. In a short time, he had taken her to the nearest restaurant where she was able to call my Aunt Donna. She and my Uncle Bert were on their way to get Vicky.

  It was over. The danger had passed.