The Book of Cthulhu 2

by Lockhart, Ross

  “Wilbur told me about it after Armitage came to the farm to check on him.”

  The mention of the famous doctor at that point in the story caught Galvin’s listeners by surprise. “Armitage wrote that he met Wilbur at the Miskatonic library in 1926!” James objected.

  Galvin smiled. “Is that so? Well, to begin with, there are a lot of things Armitage felt it prudent not to include in his ‘authoritative’ account. But if you read it carefully, you’ll note he mentioned being sent to the Whateley farm in 1925 as a ‘scholarly correspondent’ for the university.”

  “But that makes no sense,” Jeffrey piped in. “Why would the university send a head librarian somewhere as a correspondent? Let alone to the Whateley farm? The public lost all interest in the Whateleys long before 1925!”

  “Curious, ain’t it?” Galvin sniggered. “The truth is, Armitage had been visiting the farm for years; he and Wizard Whateley were old friends! After Old Whateley passed away, Armitage felt obliged to drop in, just to make sure Wilbur was following the instructions his grandfather had given him. Armitage only mentioned the visit in writing because he was seen there by someone he hadn’t expected to be there—me. I was introduced, then Old Whateley whisked Armitage off to talk in private.”

  Jeffrey couldn’t believe his ears. “Mr. Galvin, are you saying Dr. Armitage knew about the twins and Old Whateley’s plans for destroying mankind long before he encountered Wilbur at the library? That’s diametrically opposed to everything the man has stood for!”

  Galvin laughed out loud before adding, “You’re slow, but I think you’re finally starting to catch on!

  “Armitage had what you could call a hidden agenda and the old bastard wasn’t exactly pleased to hear Wilbur didn’t want anything to do with him and Old Whateley’s plan. By the time Armitage left the farm that day, he was madder than a hornet! He threatened Wilbur up and down, but Wilbur wouldn’t budge. Wilbur wanted to find the spell that would reverse the Other’s growth or even kill it if need be, but he didn’t dare tell that to Armitage. But Armitage counted on Wilbur changing his mind—least he counted on it ’til Wilbur came to his library and asked to see the complete edition of the Necronomicon of the mad Arab. After reading the section Old Whateley had pointed out to him, Wilbur started looking for spells he could use to control or destroy the Other, unaware that Armitage was spying on him over his shoulder. When Armitage figured out what Wilbur was up to, he denied Wilbur further access to the book and ordered him out of the library.

  “The bastard later admitted he’d written to the head librarians of every library that had a copy of the Necronomicon, advising them not to allow Wilbur or anyone named Galvin access.”

  James was outraged, unable to accept this new view of Armitage. “Dr. Armitage was a respected scholar!” he protested. “He held a doctorate from Princeton and a Doctor of Letters degree from Cambridge!”

  Chuckling to himself, Galvin challenged, “Have you ever wondered why such a brilliant scholar ended up as a simple librarian? Truth is, the university’s Board of Governors got wind of his delvings into certain unacceptable aspects of the occult, and they decided it would be best to put him where they could keep an eye on him.”

  Galvin openly relished the disillusioned shock now apparent on both writers’ faces. After harboring Armitage’s secret for so many years, it gave him immense pleasure to slaughter that sacred cow. He allowed the pair a few minutes for recovery before resuming his revelations.

  “In the meantime, Wilbur managed to keep the Other fed with the cattle he got from Earl Sawyer. The house started smelling something fierce though, ’cos he couldn’t always get all the chewed up carcasses out. The darn thing was getting unpredictable and didn’t always recognize him anymore. Wilbur said its mind never developed beyond that of a human infant’s despite its size, and it wouldn’t be long before its bulk would require the whole of the house. Wilbur was still growing too, though he kept hoping to find some way to stop. By early ’26, he measured over seven feet tall.”

  A sadness seeped into Galvin’s voice as he began to impart the next chapter of his incredible tale. “Just before Halloween, or Hallowmass as they called it, that same year, we lost Lavinia. Wilbur and I were wrestling with a particularly knotty passage from Vogel’s Von denen Verdammten one afternoon when Lavinia burst into the room in a full-blown panic. She was drenched in sweat and raving like a madwoman. Wilbur held her and stroked her hair for a while, trying to calm her, but she pushed him away, screaming: ‘I cain’t deny him nay longer! He needs ’es ma, an’ not yew ner n’b’dy else’ll keep me from a-goan’ to him nay more!’

  “There’d been a god-awful sloshing noise coming from the second floor all morning, but I never figured if it was a reaction to Lavinia’s hysterics or vice-versa. Sounded like a herd of elephants was stomping around up there. I’d always tried to ignore the noise from up there before, but God himself must o’ heard the uproar that day.

  “Wilbur asked me to step outside while he reasoned with Lavinia’s madness. She was twitching and a-fighting him, but Wilbur held her fast. Nobody could match Wilbur’s strength by then, let alone a frail little thing like Lavinia. He finally got her to lie down in her room, and I heard him chanting or singing to her for more than an hour before she settled enough for him to leave her. He went back to his studies, thinking she was asleep, but as it turned out, she was just pretending.”

  James interrupted to ask, “Do you think Wilbur loved his mother?”

  The question seemed to catch Galvin off guard, causing him to hesitate before answering. “I guess I never heard him say it right out, though he once recalled the fond memories he had of wandering through the hills with her when he was real young. Sometimes he spoke harshly to her, and we both ignored her ramblings, but when she was hurting, he was always real tender with her. It was kinda hard not to feel protective of her, especially when she’d get all worked up and confused.”

  Galvin drained the last of the bottle into his own glass. Jeffrey rushed off for another even before Galvin could set the empty bottle down. He rejoined them moments later, apparently anxious for Galvin to begin the next phase of his narration.

  “Just before sunset, I heard a door slam and someone ran past my door toward the hillside. I poked my head out the door and caught sight of Lavinia’s tiny, crinkly-haired form careening at top speed up the wood incline toward the boarded-up window on the east gable. The moment she reached the top, she let fly with the ax she’d brought with her, trying to hack the lock off and get inside. I was at a loss for action ’til Wilbur ran out of the house and saw what she was up to. I offered to help, but he was sure she’d gone mad and that there was no way to stop her. He told me to stay in the shed, saying he’d call me if there was anything I could do.”

  Galvin sighed. “A while later, I heard Lavinia screaming like all possessed. I headed for the door, but Wilbur had locked me in. I had heard him chanting or singing in his room just before the screaming started, so I knew it wasn’t him that was hurting Lavinia.”

  “Were you frightened?” asked James.

  “I was too busy trying to figure out what was going on to be too afraid. I couldn’t believe the Other would hurt its own mother, but then I got scared for her when I heard whippoorwills calling. They got so loud I didn’t hear the lock turn when Wilbur opened my door a while later.

  “He didn’t try to talk over the racket the birds were making, but I could see tears on his cheeks. He just walked over to where I was lying on the bed and picked me up. He set me on my feet, looked long and hard into my eyes, then wrapped both arms around me. I found myself returning his embrace, and we stayed there holding and comforting each other for some time. Then the tone of the birds changed, getting louder and wilder, so finally Wilbur let go of me.”

  James rose half way out of his seat in excitement. “Didn’t he offer any sort of explanation?”

  Galvin nodded. “All he said was, ‘The ’wills got ’er, Abe. She’ll rest easy na
ow. She ne’er understood all that Gran’pa got her inta; she wuz jest his pawn.’”

  None of the trio spoke for several minutes. Finally, Jeffrey focused on the fresh bottle of whiskey and poured a round of drinks. All three joined in a silent toast in memory of Lavinia.

  “The birds didn’t fully disperse ’til dawn. Wilbur climbed the ramp with me behind him. He told me to stay back while he went through the gable to fetch Lavinia.

  “My curiosity got the best of me when he didn’t come right out, so I climbed up high enough to peek in. There’s no way I can describe the feeling that came over me when I spotted Wilbur, standing just a little way inside, struggling in what looked like a tug o’ war with Lavinia’s limp and lifeless body floating like some kind of Kewpie doll about six feet in the air. Wilbur had told me the Other was invisible, but I guess I hadn’t expected to see the walls right through it like there was nothing there at all. I could only really be sure there was something there by the way Lavinia’s body was being pulled back and forth. The Other was grunting and whining like a frustrated child clinging onto its favorite toy.

  “It let out a squeal when it saw me gaping at it in the doorway, and it let go of Lavinia. Wilbur ran by me, cradling what was left of his mother in his arms and yelling for me to shut the door on the thing, to hold it as best I could until he got back with new locks from the shed, which I did. Wilbur carried the withered body downstairs and laid Lavinia out in her room, then returned to secure the door with new locks and boards.

  “Lavinia’s clothes were all ripped up and her body was covered with big round welts from top to bottom. She’d been sucked dry as a leaf.”

  “But why did she feel compelled to go in there?” It was James this time.

  Galvin poured another drink without bothering to offer the bottle to the others. He slammed it on the table before answering in a voice choked with emotion. “Wilbur just said, ‘She a’ways felt it wuz her duty ta suckle us both.’

  “He wouldn’t accept help with her burial, and he didn’t bother notifying the authorities. After performing some kind of esoteric service over her body, he never spoke her name in my presence again.”

  The control returned to Galvin’s voice as he continued.

  “Wilbur didn’t need my help with translating any more, but he begged me not to leave as he couldn’t bear the idea of being there alone. He had to stay to keep the Other contained. I told him I’d become too attached to just leave him there.

  “During the summer of 1927, Wilbur repaired the large tool shed next to mine and moved the wood-burning stove from the house to outside so heat could be piped into both sheds. Then we started moving his books and makeshift desk from the house to Wilbur’s shed as the Other was getting way too big for the upper half of the house. I boarded up the windows and doors of the house’s ground floor while Wilbur gutted the remaining partitions between rooms and floors.

  “That winter saw Wilbur doubling his efforts to get access to the Necronomicon; we didn’t know then that Armitage had already contacted the libraries to warn them against him. They wouldn’t even allow him to copy particular pages from the book. He was so desperate for a way to control his own growth as well as that of the Other that he travelled on horseback all the way to the library at Cambridge. Armitage had done his work well, though, so Wilbur wasn’t allowed near the book.”

  Again Galvin paused, hesitant to relive the next series of events.

  “We managed to keep things in check all that winter and on into 1928, but by late summer it became obvious that the Other was quickly outgrowing the old farmhouse. The walls bulged whenever it turned around, and its movement in general became very constrained. Something had to be done to stop its growth before all hell broke loose. That’s when Wilbur realized he had to try and steal the book from the library at Miskatonic. He wouldn’t allow me to come with him as someone had to keep feeding the Other while he was away or it would break out for sure and go on a killing spree.”

  “You blame Armitage for Wilbur’s death, don’t you?” James asked.

  Galvin reacted adamantly. “You’re damn right I blame him! He knew Wilbur couldn’t control the Other any longer without the spell, yet he did everything possible to force the crisis. He wanted Wilbur to come crawling to him and agree to his hellish plan. The only other option was for Wilbur to steal the book. Armitage knew that too. Why do you think, knowing how dogs universally hated Wilbur, Armitage suddenly added watch dogs in addition to the regular security at the library? When he found Wilbur bleeding to death on the library floor, Armitage did nothing to save him. He feigned shock at seeing such an alien monster simply for the benefit of his colleagues!”

  Neither interviewer knew what to say, so they waited silently for Galvin’s fury to subside. His story was fascinating despite many surprising revelations.

  “Wilbur felt there was a real good chance he’d be arrested while attempting to steal the book, so he made me promise to leave if he hadn’t returned within a week. It never occurred to me that worse might happen, but it must have occurred to him.

  “Before he left, he said he could feel the Other’s claustrophobia. As often happens with twins, he and the Other shared strong emotional feelings to a certain extent. He said it felt trapped and afraid.

  “I hesitated to leave, however, hoping my friend would come back safely with the means to halt or even reverse the Other’s growth.

  “I decided it was time to leave when I had used up all the cows to feed the Other. That was on the first of September. Earl Sawyer had been providing them regularly for that purpose, but he heard the creaking and the straining sounds coming from the house and it frightened him away. I admit I was afraid too, so on the ninth I decided to leave. I was packing a bag when I heard a real loud noise, like the logs of the farmhouse wrenching and cracking apart. I stepped out of the shed to get a better look, and the whole world exploded around me.

  “It was pouring down rain so hard I could barely see. Doors, plaster, and glass filled the air; huge chunks of walls were flying in every direction. The farmhouse had been ripped into sections, parts of which were still moving. A huge chunk of roof floated in the air, the gables and chimney still intact. Mud was splashing up in waves and an ungodly stench hit me so hard, I threw up.

  “The next thing I knew, something slimy grabbed one of my legs and thrust me thirty feet or so into the air. I couldn’t see what had me, but it felt like a mass of wet, living rope winding and knotting all over me. I tried to get a grip on whatever held me, but it was like trying to grasp an armload of oily snakes—only these were as thick as my thigh. I could feel mouths clamping down and biting me right through my clothes, and I saw the rain turn red as it struck my body. My chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, so with the first air I caught, I started screaming and hollering for all I was worth.

  “Everything was getting dark and blurry but I fought against passing out. All at once, a desperate clarity came over me and pushed away the fear. Without thinking, I began yelling at my invisible attacker, ‘I’m Abe, Wilbur’s friend! Don’t you recognize me? I’m a friend! Please, put me down—you’re killing me!’”

  Galvin paused. “You may not believe me, but all of a sudden my feet touched the ground and the things that were binding me let go all at once.”

  Unable to restrain his excitement, James leaned back in his chair and shouted, “Jesus!”

  Galvin, who had almost crept over the table toward his listeners, also leaned back, releasing his audience from the stifling tension he had produced as he described his ordeal.

  An excited Jeffrey begged, “But why did it let go of you?”

  After a moment, Galvin whispered, “I believe it remembered me from its telepathic link with Wilbur; it experienced Wilbur’s trust and love for me. It was as if Wilbur reached out from beyond the grave to save me.”

  Galvin now sat perfectly upright in his chair. His hands were shaking to the extent that he spilled half his drink even before he
could raise it to his mouth. The second bottle lay empty on the table before him.

  “I never did actually see what the Other looked like, but from what I heard later about it, that was probably a blessin’.

  “I guess I blacked out then, ’cos Earl Sawyer’s kid stumbled across me the next morning. He fetched his daddy, who said I was more dead than alive when he found me lying half inside a footprint as big as an old hogshead barrel and over a foot deep. They took me to Dr. Houghton and so saved my life. Nearly all my ribs were crushed, my sternum was fractured, and I was bleeding all over. I swore all three to secrecy about my presence, hoping Armitage would assume the Other had killed me. He’d have come after me if he thought I was still alive.”

  For several minutes Galvin sat quietly in his chair, as if he had finished his tale. The whir of tape rewinding alerted Jeffrey to stop his recorder. He felt a certain relief that Galvin had reached the end of his tale before his speech got any worse. He had been slipping more and more into colloquial speech patterns for several minutes.

  “Well,” offered James, “I guess that’s about it then. Armitage killed the Other up on Sentinel Hill for whatever motive, and the day was saved!”

  Galvin leaned forward with a disgusted look on his face and sneered, “And I thought you boys was smart!”

  James stumbled over a few syllables in search of some response, but Galvin wasn’t finished yet.

  “The whole story’s in Wilbur’s diary, which I read after he left for Arkham; the code wasn’t all that hard to figure out. Later on, when Armitage got the diary, he read it and only let his buddies see bits and pieces so he could interpret the text to mean whatever he wanted it to mean. He burned it before anybody else got a chance to see it. Now, just how scholarly does an action like that sound to you? Yet if you read his account carefully, you’ll see the wily old bastard couldn’t resist tossing in a few tantalizing clues to the truth.”