The Messenger (2011 reformat)

by Edward Lee

  Chapter Three

  I

  The two children would've otherwise been a perfect picture. Standing quietly, respectfully, hands folded before them. The eight-year-old boy-his name was Kevin-dressed neatly in a navy blue blazer with gold buttons, gray slacks, a blue-and-gold-striped tie. His almond-brown bangs were combed just right, not a hair out of place. Kevin was a well behaved boy (at least most of the time) and even though he didn't fully understand what was going on here-or what had happened-he knew that it was important for him to be good today. Not a peep was heard from him.

  Standing next to him, just as tidily, was his eleven year-old sister, Jennifer. Tall and slim, with the same eyes as her brother, she looked like a perfect young lady in her navy skirt with a gold butterfly-chain belt and flowered slate-blue sleeveless top. A coffee-colored ponytail hung down to her belt line, held with a pretty hair band. But Jennifer was old enough to know the importance of remaining quiet and being good at this place.

  They were in Winter-Damon Cemetery, just outside of Danelleton.

  She'd been to a graveside service in a cemetery once before, to see her father buried.

  Finches chirped obliviously in the tall shade trees surrounding that section of the graveyard. A high sun shone through the trees, in a sky blotted snow-white with trace clouds. A refreshing breeze slipped through, taking some of the heat out of the air.

  A stoic minister stood before the three coffins, his voice resonating:

  "Remember thy servants, O Lord, Marlene and Michael and Jeff, according to the favor which thou bearest unto thy people-"

  Jennifer took Kevin's hand, gripping it reassuringly.

  "-and whosoever liveth, and believeth in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life-"

  The minister closed his tasseled prayer book, then extended his hands without missing a beat.

  "-through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory, forever and ever. Amen."

  In unison, the standing crowd around the triple grave responded, "Amen."

  Jane put her arm around the two well-dressed children, hugging them close. Jane was their mother.

  Yes, she knew Jennifer was old enough to comprehend the funeral, and she hoped that Kevin was too. Kevin had been too young to attend her husband's funeral, but now, after much delicate explaining, the boy had a concept of death. Jennifer had been a trouper about this, perhaps grasping more. She recalled her father's burial and she specifically asked to attend this one. The first fact of life was death-all children had to learn about it. But what bothered Jane were the circumstances here. Her children had known Marlene's son. Now the son was dead, and it had been his mother who'd killed him.

  How could children ever fully understand that?

  "It's all over, kids," Jane said softly. "We can go home now."

  Jane led the children down the winding path toward the cars, nodding briefly to other mourners she knew. Jennifer and Kevin kept silent, still confused by the day and the redundant comments by others as they left, like: "Life goes on," and "They're all in a better place now."

  Blue-haired old Mrs. Baxter, one of the town's fussbudgets, limped contentedly by on her cane, observing, "It's all God's will, we can't question that. The Lord works in mysterious ways." Jane smiled curtly, hurt by her son's perplexed expression. How could she ever explain anything-especially anything about God or spirituality-on a day like this?

  I just want to get out of here, she thought. From far off, a bell tolled, and its lonely peal snagged her. It made her think of that bizarre sketch Steve Higgins had shown her.

  A sketch of a bell.

  What had that been all about? Something the police had found at Marlene's house. Even more bizarre was Steve's tone of voice when he talked about it. So ambiguous. It seemed as though the police chief didn't want to reveal everything he knew about the sketch.

  The service was disbanding. Not too long from now, Jane knew, the three coffins would be lowered into the ground and buried, Marlene and her family gone forever. More facts of life in death.

  "Look, Mom," Jennifer finally cut into the silence.

  "What, honey?"

  "There's Carlton."

  Jane saw her new manager standing between several parked cars on the path. He stood alone, in a somber dark suit, and was staring off.

  "Carlton's cool," Kevin said. "He knows all the cheat codes for Tech Warrior!"

  It was the name of some video game; Carlton would sometimes come over and entertain the kids with his gaming skills.

  "Hi, Carlton!" Kevin called, waving.

  But Carlton didn't notice their approach. He remained there staring off into the distance.

  "Hey, Mom, is Carlton okay?" her son asked.

  "He looks a little out of it," Jennifer added precociously. "I guess he's depressed about Marlene too."

  Jane squinted as they got closer. Yeah, he looks out of it, all right. More than that. Was he drunk? Carlton stood awkwardly, as if tilted, hands limp at his sides. He seemed to be squinting up at the sky. At one point, he grinned, muttered something inaudible to himself, then his face reverted to a blank stare. The kids noticed this too.

  "Hi, Carlton!" Kevin said again.

  And again Carlton didn't hear him.

  Jane walked up to him. "Carlton? Are you all right?"

  The man blinked, winced, then abruptly acknowledged her. "Oh, hi, Jane. Hey, kids."

  "You looked off in space. Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, sure. I'm just a little..."

  "Out of it?" Jennifer said.

  Carlton smiled, then patted Kevin's head. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Not feeling too hot is all, and then all this..."

  "I know, Carlton. We're all a little out of sorts. Who could figure something like this?"

  "Yeah. I still can't believe it."

  Jane looked at him more closely. He really doesn't look well. Carlton's face looked drawn, pale, eyes tired. "Look kind of sick, Carlton," she said. "If you want to take a few days off, that's fine with me. No offense, but you look like you could use it."

  "No, no, I'm fine. And, after all, we've got a brand new post office to run, plus we'll be doing double-duty while the police have the main branch closed. Besides, I want to work. It keeps my mind off things."

  Jane knew what he meant. "I guess the only thing any of us can do is pick up the pieces and move on."

  Kevin tugged at Carlton's jacket sleeve. "Carlton, can you come back to the house and play me in a Tech Warrior death match?"

  Jane frowned. "Honey, I don't think Carlton's feeling up to video games today."

  "Nonsense," Carlton said. "Come on, Kevin. I can always go for a death match."

  "And you can watch me feed Mel," Jennifer said. Mel was the family's pet toad.

  Jane shook her head. "I can't believe how much you guys enjoy feeding crickets to that thing."

  The four of them headed back down the path, still uncomfortable but coming to grips with the fact they'd never see Marlene or her family again. Jeez, Jane thought. What can you do?

  "Hey, Mom"-suddenly there was a tugging at her belt-"who's that weird-looking guy over there?" Kevin said.

  "Where?" Jane and Carlton said at the same time.

  Kevin pointed toward a stand of trees, then lowered his finger, confused. "He was there a second ago."

  "I saw him too," Jennifer said. "He had long hair and a beard."

  "He looked really creepy!" Kevin added.

  Carlton walked over to the trees, looked behind them. "There's no one here, kids. No creepy guy with long hair and a beard."

  Jane frowned, urged the children toward their car. "He was just someone attending the service. Forget about it, honey."

  Carlton caught up with them. "He probably got in his car and left."

  Kevin kept looking over his shoulder as they moved off, unconvinced. "It was really weird, though, Mom."

  "What, honey?"

  "That man...he was staring right at you."

  He was staring right at her. Actu
ally, through her, not at her, with that strange hinge-like noise in his head. Everything he felt was wrong-he didn't know which auguries to trust and which to dismiss. It always came to him in his mind and dreams.

  He knew that the Messenger was near.

  II

  God in Heaven, he thought and almost laughed out loud.

  His name was Dhevic. He was a large man. He came from many places but felt rooted to no place in particular. Location was relative. For him, his life was a mission that ignored geography, society, and even culture. He had his instincts and his blood; he needed little else.

  Worse for wear now, gray etching his beard and shoulder-length hair, he moved off, doubting that he'd even been seen by the woman. Would she be next? The blood in his brain gave him no inkling. Or would she just be more fodder? It was hard to tell these days-Dhevic was getting old.

  He slipped away quickly, light on his feet in spite of his height. He didn't like to remain in graveyards long- the dead soured his visions. They sometimes whispered the most forbidden-and atrocious-things.

  Have to get out of here...

  Dhevic drove off, wondering about the attractive woman named Jane Ryan. Maybe I'm just reading too much into things, he thought. It was always so hard to tell. He shouldn't be thinking at all, because it was the thinking that made him see.

  In his mind he'd seen the other one and the ensuing bloodbath, a festival of carnal horror. Marlene. He saw what she saw, felt what she felt. She'd cut her husband's throat to the bone while they'd been having sex, riding him like a gasping beast, thrusting down on him as blood shot from the riven throat. Then she'd finished herself off in her glee, masturbating wildly over his corpse. She'd rolled around in his blood, covering every inch of herself: hair drenched red like a mop, grinning face smeared red, her breasts erect and shining in bright, bright red. She'd already butchered her son but for her husband she took extra care. Her scarlet hands wielded the knife not with rage or hatred but with great passion, great love, and as she worked, taking out parts and opening him deeper, she felt caressed from behind by someone who felt that same passion and love for her, or at least it seemed that way.

  Marlene couldn't see this person but she knew he was there almost as though he were part of her, almost as though his hands were on hers, guiding them in her tasks. She would be caressed later by the same entity, when she delivered her message and machine-gunned the main branch post office.

  There wasn't much left of her husband when she was done-a carved carcass, innards placed all about the room, face deftly removed and hung on the bathroom doorknob. She stood up and cast a final glance at her work and wished she could bring him back to life, just to fuck him and kill him all over again. Cut him up all over again because she knew how much it would please the Messenger.

  Everything was messages. Everything was secrets. It had been Carlton who'd delivered that first message to her...

  Carlton, Dhevic thought. The name invaded his mind, then the vision skewed, that familiar sound in his head-like the tiniest whine-that would not abate. The faint but steady ache in the pulp of his teeth.

  Who was Carlton? Wait! The man he'd just seen back at the cemetery, with Jane Ryan and her children. That was the inkling Dhevic suddenly received, and he pulled his vehicle over to the shoulder, stopped, and closed his eyes to struggle through the pain.

  The man in the cemetery.

  Carlton.

  Him, too, and then he began to see it all behind the lids of his eyes. A basement, cluttered. The man crawling out of some storage cranny. Sweating, patched with dust, knees and elbows scuffed and dirty.

  "What are you doing here, Marlene?" "I came to get my sorting boxes. What's...that?" No more talk, just vicious sex on the basement floor, each just short of strangling each other at the sweat-drenched moment of their climaxes, and that was how fast it happened. The Messenger had touched them both.

  In Dhevic's mind he could see what was in their minds as they wrapped themselves up in one another: the most detestable images, images from someplace else, a charnel house the size of a thousand cities. A sound like crashing waves but then Dhevic realized that the sound was screams, hundreds of thousands of them, millions, squalling from every direction. The sound was endless.

  Chaos. A living nightmare that never ended. Dhevic saw in flashes, white-edged images catapulted into his mind's eye. Things flying in the sky, things that were not birds. The sky was the color of arterial blood-it even seemed to pump like blood, behind soot-colored clouds and a black sickle moon. Figures in black armor marched in ranks down smoking streets, dismembering any poor soul who dared be out. Great swords and halberd shafts sang through the air in graceful arcs, lopping off heads, arms, severing bodies at the waist, cleaving others in half from head to crotch. On the ledges of the hundred-story ghetto blocks, griffins and gargoyles waited patiently for mongrel infants to be thrown from windows, tender meals to say the least. Infants were thrown from these windows quite regularly, in fact, by destitute mothers who were either damned humans, or demons, or mixes of both.

  The Outer Sectors were uncharted but existed abstractly, in various dimensions, outside of the center of the Abyss. Parched fields of corrupt soil and infernal vegetation stretched for...

  Well, no one knew. Mile-long chain gangs were a common sight in these regions, emaciated stick figures fettered together by welded cuffs and forced to work until there was nothing left of them but bones. Closer were rivers vaster than the Amazon, and bays and lakes larger than any ocean on Earth-only these bodies were filled with waste, filth, corpses, and blood instead of water. The most unspeakable creatures lived in these depths.

  Another image flashed, snapped into Dhevic's mind with a sound like a stout branch cracking.

  Marlene again. The living world behind her now, she was entering her new eternal home through a field of flames. She was naked, hair flowing and bright-eyed, as beautiful as she'd ever been. A figure was waiting for her, and when she saw it, she rejoiced. She ran to the figure with open arms, her now-immortal heart beating with love.

  The Messenger.

  "Thank you for delivering my messages, Marlene," the entity said in a voice that was cosmic. "And you will reap your reward now, as promised."

  Marlene's expression went from one of love and total devotion to an expression of utter horror. The Messenger stood and watched as a horned, slug-skinned demon came up from behind and chopped off Marlene's head with something like a cleaver. The head was placed on a spiked stake alongside many, many such heads. The heads were all still alive, some talking, some drooling, some grinding their teeth or chewing through their cheeks, all with their eyes still open, all still seeing.

  Marlene's head looked down from its perch and watched more subordinate demons frolicking sexually with her decapitated body.

  The Messenger sighed, in bliss...

  Dhevic passed out in his car seat. He wouldn't regain consciousness for several hours.

  III

  Dinner was absolutely morose, but Jane expected that. What do you talk about with your kids at the dinner table when you've just come back from a funeral? When one of the people buried was someone you knew, and that same person murdered her family and almost thirty other people?

  What did you talk about?

  Everybody picked at their food, even Kevin. Jane had made his favorite meal, teriyaki meat loaf and deep-fried asparagus, which he usually devoured with gusto. Not tonight, though. Jennifer, on the other hand, always picked at her food (she was on a skinny kick lately, something going around school), but tonight she scarcely took a bite. Carlton had left earlier, after playing a game with Kevin and helping Jennifer feed the toad. Mel, a horrendously ugly horned toad, was actually Kevin's pet, but he let Jennifer feed it. (Kevin didn't want to admit that he was too squeamish for the feeding chores, which always required the sacrifice of a live cricket or mealworm.)

  "So who won the game?" Jane asked, finally breaking the silence.

  "No one, real
ly," Kevin said. "Carlton wasn't really into it, and neither was I...I guess."

  "What was wrong with Carlton today?" Jennifer asked, picking at an asparagus spear with her fork.

  "Yeah, Mom. He was acting funny."

  "And every now and then he'd kind of just... stare off," Jennifer said. "Sometimes I'd look at him and he'd have this weird look in his eyes. Did you notice that?"

  Jane tried to rouse herself from her stupor. "He was just upset, honey. When things like this happen, people react in different ways. Carlton's worked with Marlene for a long time, just like I have. And there's another thing. The funeral probably reminded Carlton of something really bad that happened to him a long time ago."

  "What, Mom?"

  Oh, Jesus, why did I mention that! She fumbled for a way out but knew there was none. "Well, Carlton had a family, too, a wife and a daughter. I think that daughter was about the same age as Marlene's son. Anyway, his wife and daughter were killed one night in a car accident," and she didn't feel too bad about the white lie. They didn't need to know that the daughter was never found, probably abducted.

  "Oh," Kevin said, thinking about what Jane had said, trying to understand. "But this is different. Marlene wasn't killed in a car crash. She was shot by the police."

  Jesus, Jane thought once more.

  A pause, then Jennifer said, "Why did Marlene do it?"

  "Yeah, Mom. Why did Marlene kill all those people, and Mr. Troy and Jeff, too?"

  All Jane could do was sigh at the impossible questions. "It's hard to explain. Sometimes something happens to people that makes them do bad things. Something happens in their brains. It's called mental illness. It makes a person's brain stop working right, and when that happens, sometimes people just-"

  "You mean they go crazy?" Kevin said at once.

  "Like that guy who killed Dad?" Jennifer added.

  Jane faltered. Now the two tragedies were meeting on common ground, and that common ground was her children. Again, she didn't know what to say. She felt lost.