Frantic

by Mike Dellosso

  Esther interpreted the look on his face correctly. “Are there any in the boat?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll go check.” Marny ran over the grass and granite to where the boat was docked and rooted through the storage compartments. There were flares, but he didn’t want to waste them on starting a campfire. They might need them for their intended purpose before the night was over. In a first-aid kit he found one pack of water-resistant paper matches.

  Returning with his find, he held the matchbook over his head, victorious. “Cavemen would have killed for just one of these, and we have twenty.”

  He crouched low with his back to the breeze, tore a match from the cardboard book, and struck the head across the phosphorous strip. The match ignited, then promptly fizzled. Marny tried again. Then several more times. The moist, steady breeze that blew off the water and combed over the island proved too much for the tiny flame on the end of the match. He tried cupping his hands around the lit match, shielding it from the air, but as soon as the fire neared the pile of dry sticks, it was extinguished.

  Marny looked up at Esther and William, huddled close together. He found hope in their faces, and trust. And it made his cheeks burn. Their belief in him was unearned and soon to be dashed like a glass bottle against the rocky shore of the island.

  No one spoke.

  He tore another match from the book, slid it along the strip, and quickly cupped the flame in his hands. Carefully, with one hand shielding the flame from the ocean air, he put the match to a clump of dry grass and pine needles he’d gathered and stuffed under the larger twigs and sticks. The tinder ignited immediately and burned quickly. The fire spread, hungrily devouring the dry fuel until it was gone. But the flames proved too weak to take to the sticks and too fickle to withstand the steady breeze. Within seconds, what promised to be a sustaining fire had withered and faded to nothing.

  Marny stared at the open matchbook. With one match left he looked at William, then Esther. “This is it. Wish me luck.” He struck the match, cupped his hand around it, and held it close to a branch of pine needles. The flame ignited one needle, then two, then a twig and more needles. Marny blew on it, giving it the oxygen it craved … and promptly blew it out.

  He dropped back on his butt and put his head in his hands. Without fire they’d freeze; overnight temperatures were forecast to dip into the upper forties. Their only other option was to head back to the mainland, where a very unhappy Gary no doubt waited.

  Marny heard movement and looked up. William had crouched low and hunched over near the pile of sticks. His brow tightened and lips drew into a thin line. He worked his good hand under the sticks, held it there, then shut his eyes. Marny was about to ask him what he was doing when a faint glow appeared where his hand was. At first Marny thought the boy had found an unused match and succeeded where he’d failed nineteen times. But William didn’t pull out his hand. The glow grew brighter and larger. Now light radiated up through the sticks and illuminated the curves and angles of William’s face, giving him a ghostly appearance. With his eyes still closed and the glow brightening even more, William held his hand there, showing no sign of being in pain or awe. His face went calm, relaxed. His lips moved almost imperceptibly. Suddenly a tongue of fire appeared and licked at the sticks. William opened his eyes and jerked his hand away from the flame. Within seconds the fire had spread to the rest of the sticks and engulfed most of the small pit.

  William scooted next to Esther and put his head on her lap. She wrapped them both in a blanket and met Marny’s eyes.

  “What was that all about?” he said.

  William shrugged and closed his eyes. Esther stroked his hair with her hand and began to sing a song Marny had never heard before. It was beautiful, melodic, haunting. Sounded like an old hymn, maybe Scottish. Slowly, like the melting of butter on a hot griddle, William’s body relaxed, and he slipped into sleep.

  The fire was going full tilt now and quickly engulfed the dry branches. Marny placed more wood on the flames and inched himself around so he was closer to Esther.

  “What did William just do? With the fire?” He couldn’t help his curiosity.

  Esther continued to stroke William’s hair. “He believed.”

  “Is that why Gary is after him?”

  “Why?”

  “Because of these … magic tricks he does.”

  “It’s not magic, Marny. Magic is for stories and dreams and those who play on the dark side of things.”

  “Like Gary and his house.”

  She looked out at the bay, which emptied into the ocean, so vast, so deep, so black, undulating and moving in a rhythm not of this world, stirring with mystery. “Yes.”

  Marny poked at the fire with a branch, then tossed it in. “You said he was going to kill you. Your note.”

  “He will when he gets what he wants.”

  “What’s that?”

  She was about to answer when their fireside conversation was interrupted by the muffled sound of something moving in the forest.

  Chapter 17

  MARNY GRABBED A branch from the fire and stood.

  A flame hung onto the end of the stick for a second, then died. Esther stared at him with wide eyes. He knew what she was thinking because it was no doubt the same thing he was thinking. Apparently Gary didn’t mind swimming a mile in fifty-degree water, and now he was tramping through the woods in sopping wet clothes. It didn’t make sense, but the sounds they heard didn’t lie.

  Again they heard the soft uneven crunch of pine needles and the rustle of branches. Definitely footsteps. Marny took a stone from the fire ring in his other hand. Sticks and stones wouldn’t be much of a defense against Gary’s bulk, but he felt he needed something to defend himself—to defend them—with.

  William remained asleep, and Esther stayed where she was. Marny moved forward, stepping lightly on the island grass so as to remain as noiseless as possible. Chances were that Gary had followed the light of the fire and seen them already, but in case he hadn’t Marny wanted to remain as concealed as he could for as long as possible.

  He gripped the stick in his hand way too hard and could feel it pulsating from the thrum of his heart.

  The sounds grew closer, right up to the forest’s edge, and Marny froze. If there was ever a disadvantage, he had it. Standing there in the open with no cover at all, he was a target begging to be hit. His primitive weapons would do no good against the darkly veiled shots from a handgun.

  The thing in the woods ran left, moving quickly, brushing through boughs of pine and rustling the forest floor. It stopped, then returned to its original position. Whatever it was, it was big, the size of a man. But it moved quickly and with the agility of an animal. Marny couldn’t picture Gary, with his mass and weight, moving like that.

  Two glowing orbs appeared and hovered maybe five feet from the ground. Human eyes didn’t glow in firelight. Marny balanced the rock in his hand, then tossed it at the spot where the eyes seemed to float in space. The stone landed with a thud, and the animal took off with a crunch of pine needles and deadened whoosh of branches until the sound diminished to nothing and they were left with the noises of the island once again, the crackle of the fire and rhythmic ebb and flow of the water.

  Returning to the fire ring, Marny threw the stick back on the flames and sat next to Esther. She looked at him, her eyes wide and expectant.

  “Just a deer or something checking us out.” His hands shook, and to his ears it sounded like his voice did also. This time it was only a deer; next time it could be Gary. Marny was confident Gary wouldn’t be able to approach the island without their knowing it, but if there was one thing this day had already proved, it was that stranger things could happen.

  He could tell Esther knew what he was thinking. She always seemed to know what he was thinking. Either she had a special gift like her brother did, or Marny was just that transparent. He suspected the latter but certainly didn’t rule out the former. Again, stranger things had already happene
d.

  Esther looked around, studying the darkness, then said, “Do you have a plan for if he comes?”

  A plan. Marny wasn’t one for plans. His life was lived from the seat of his pants, not from formulating plans to reach goals and operating on a schedule of planned events. His only plan was to stay alive, get Esther and William to safety, and then get as far from them as possible. In the short time he’d known her he’d already grown very fond of Esther, and he wasn’t about to put her safety—and possibly her life—in jeopardy by sticking around.

  He picked up a stick and poked at the fire while trying to think of an answer that would sound as though he’d been pondering the subject of what-ifs. Nothing came to him. “Um, run?”

  “Not much of a plan.”

  “I suppose I’m not much of the planning type. I usually just, you know, take life as it comes.”

  There was silence between them then, and Marny was certain she was wishing she’d never dropped her note at that gas station for that attendant to find. Someone else would have been much more help, better prepared to protect them, and would maybe even stand up against Gary.

  “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing when the time comes.”

  Her confidence in him was humbling. He didn’t deserve it, but somehow it made him feel better to know someone thought he was more than just an affliction waiting to upset people’s lives and take their loved ones.

  “Why did you pick me?” He hoped she’d say something eloquent and encouraging, something that gave new life to his mission, infused him with resolve … so when she said, “I didn’t have any other choice,” his already suffering ego dropped a few notches.

  “Gary doesn’t go out but to the general store and gas station,” she said. “He’d never gone to your station before because it’s too close to home. He usually goes to the Agway in Ellsworth. It’s self-service, so he doesn’t have to talk to anyone. He takes me along to keep me separated from William. He’s afraid I’ll steal away with my little brother while we’re alone in the house. I don’t run in to too many people.”

  Okay, so she hadn’t chosen him. He just happened to be the only warm body she came in contact with.

  “It was God’s will. You’re the right one, Marny.” She said it like she was putting the final thoughts on an argument she was determined not to lose.

  Marny wasn’t sure about the God’s will part, but he couldn’t deny that fate had had a hand in all this. He could only hope fate would also have a hand in getting them off this island safely and getting Esther and William away from Gary for good.

  “Do you believe that?” she said.

  “Believe what?”

  “That you finding and reading my note was part of God’s plan?”

  “I told you I’m not the planning type.”

  “But God is. Nothing happens by chance. Every aspect of our lives, the good, the bad, the losses and victories, they’re all planned. Nothing catches God by surprise.”

  And that’s what Marny had a problem with. He knew what the Bible said, the major parts anyway. His mother’s nightly readings were still in his head somewhere. The all-knowing, all-loving God thing had him stumped, though. There was so much suffering, so much hurt. The three of them—Esther, William, and himself— were perfect examples of the hurt this world could produce. And that was part of God’s plan?

  Marny placed another stick on the fire. “I never did understand that.”

  “You don’t have to understand it, just believe it. It’s called faith.”

  “The gift William has.”

  “Yes. But we can all have faith.”

  Marny was getting uncomfortable with the conversation. His mother had faith, and look where it got her. “You better get some sleep.”

  “You can’t hide from it, you know.”

  “I’m not trying to hide from it, just understand it.”

  Esther glanced around. “Are there snakes around here?”

  He shrugged. “I’m sure there are, but they won’t come close to the fire.”

  “What if it goes out?”

  “It won’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  He looked at her and smiled. “Have faith.”

  She adjusted William and lay down next to him so his head was on her arm. “Good night, Marny. My accidental hero.”

  Chapter 18

  DOING THE LORD’S work wasn’t always easy or clean.

  Gary stood on the patio behind the large seaside house. He’d waited an hour for the dog inside to quiet down and disappear into a back room.

  A whispered prayer left Gary’s lips and wafted away on an ocean breeze. He was God’s servant. At times he questioned what the Lord required of him, but he’d immediately scold himself or sometimes even inflict pain upon himself, cleansing through suffering.

  The voice was always there, his unseen schoolmaster.

  Corralling your mind and bringing it into submission is a constant struggle. But what the Lord demands should be your priority. The servant is never greater than his master.

  Entrance to the house was gained easily, almost too easily, verifying that this appointment was arranged by God Himself. The home’s occupant was also a chosen one. He had been chosen before creation to partake in this most important mission. The aura of providence was in this place; Gary could feel it, smell it, even taste it in the air.

  Moments after stepping into the house, he was met by the dog, apparently awakened by the whisper of the door opening. It was a small dog and easily silenced. Its neck was no thicker than Gary’s wrist.

  With the dog in one hand, he moved through the house quickly, room to room, searching for the sleeping inhabitant, the chosen participant in the work of the Lord. They all had their roles to play. Gary’s was that of protector and guardian, this man’s was that of a sacrifice. But hadn’t they all been sacrifices? Unlike the others, though, this man’s would only be temporary—momentary, in fact—for a far greater place awaited him on the other side.

  Gary found the bedroom on the first floor and the owner of the house asleep in his bed. A CPAP machine sat firmly in place over his nose, making the sleeper look like a space traveler en route to another galaxy, sleeping away light-years of travel. The pump hummed quietly on the nightstand. Gary placed the dog on the bed beside its master and whispered another prayer.

  The man slept peacefully on his back, hands crossed over his chest, eyes moving rhythmically beneath his closed lids. Gary wondered what images his reverie held, if they were pleasant or nightmarish. He supposed a man of this stature and standard of living, a man of this age and maturity, would entertain only enjoyable dreams. But one could never be sure.

  In the darkness of the room, with only the dusty light of the moon filtering through the windows to light his path, Gary embarked on a journey few in this world have been asked to take. He knelt beside the bed and placed a hand lightly on the sleeper’s leg.

  “You have been chosen to partake in the work of the Lord. His anointed is among us and must be protected. I am his protector and must fulfill the instructions given me by Almighty God.” His words came out as serpentlike whispers, barely piercing the stillness of the room, not disturbing the sleeping sacrifice.

  “Your gift to the Lord will be rewarded in paradise, your suffering will be smiled upon. Through suffering we are cleansed, through death we are glorified.”

  He then stood and breathed another prayer asking for strength and courage. The duty given him was not an easy one, but something was asked of everyone, and what had been asked of him was small compared to what others had given.

  Gary pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. His hands were trembling, not out of fear or apprehension, but out of awe for what had been asked of him, for it was the stuff of angels and God Himself. He had been given the power over life and death, the right to take life or give it freely. He felt with all humility that he was not worthy of such a duty. Some died because they opposed the work of the Lord—like Condo
n and the cop—but others because they were part of the work of the Lord. Some might call them collateral damage, but Gary didn’t see it that way, not at all. They were partners, brothers in the mission, warriors worthy of the highest honor. They were sacrifices, giving everything, and would gain eternity.

  “Your time has come,” he whispered to the sleeper. “May your perfecting be swift and glorious.”

  Gary stepped outside and breathed in the cool, salty air coming off the bay. One day he’d like to own a home near the sea, maybe one just like this one. Maybe this one … if the Lord so blessed.

  He turned and came face-to-face with himself in the glass of the sliding patio door. His reflection always annoyed him. He’d always been on the heavy side. In school his gym teacher once called him “thick,” but Gary knew what that meant—fat. In recent years he’d put on more weight and lost some hair. And then there were the scars covering most of his hands and arms. Freakish things. The Lord’s chastisement.

  Turning away from the man in the glass, he crossed the lawn in silence, taking in the moment, basking in the satisfaction that came with serving the Lord and accomplishing His task. No matter how difficult the journey or high the price, the warmth of the light on the other side, His light, was always worth it.

  But Gary’s reprieve was cut short; there was still work to do. There was the matter of retrieving the boy and disposing of those who sought to harm him. They were not sacrifices, not brothers on the journey; they were the enemy, violators, perverters of God’s calling. He would feel no remorse when administering the justice they deserved.

  Gary looked out across the vast sea rolling in the moonlight. It seemed to have a life of its own, breathing in time to the rhythm of God’s creation, sharing his heartbeat. Out there somewhere was the boy, the anointed one, and he would soon be under Gary’s protective shelter again.

  They would come back to the house to see if dear Mr. Condon had survived. They would go to the neighbor for help and find the seriousness of their transgressions, how far the tentacles of their sins had reached. They would hope to retrieve the car.