by Hart, Jerry
When they got back to the townhouse, Don said to Craig, “I think I know who was in here last night.”
Craig had just sat down on the futon. He cocked an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Though I didn’t actually see him, I think it was my brother Ethan. I heard he was in town.”
“The one you haven’t seen in nine years?”
Don nodded. “I don’t know how he found me, but he’s not really...right in the head. You know what I mean?”
Craig nodded uncertainly.
“He’s not really a good guy, and he shouldn’t be here,” Don added. He felt embarrassed telling his roommate all this. It felt like a secret shame. Basically, it was.
“What should I do if I ever see him?” Craig asked.
“Tell me, if you can. Don’t go near him. I’m going to tell my dad he’s here.” Don wasn’t sure if what he’d just said was true. There was no real reason not to tell Dad, though.
“Don, are you okay?”
He looked at Craig, who was now standing. “Yeah. Why?”
“You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”
Don’s heart sped up. He’d only been there for a few seconds. “Are you serious?”
Craig nodded, looking scared. “It was freaky. You must’ve been in a trance.”
Suddenly, Don’s cell phone rang in his pocket. A look at the caller ID told him it was Dad. “Hello?” he answered. And then he listened.
* * *
Two days later, Don found himself driving to Florida with his dad. Uncle Billy had passed away nearly a week prior of a heart attack. Yvonne and Liz stayed in Texas, leaving Dad and Don alone for fourteen hours.
The trip was uneventful but pleasant. Don was reminded of all the trips the family took when he was a kid, back when Dad had that big van. He and Dad didn’t talk much during the trip, which suited Don just fine. Whenever he was away from someone for long enough, that person practically became a stranger to him. Besides, if Don got too comfortable with conversation, he knew he would bring up Ethan.
He had been puzzling over why he was so reluctant to tell Dad about his brother’s return, when he finally figured it out: Dad still denied the existence of the curse, even though he’d seen proof of it with his own eyes. Mom had been in full-on curse mode the night Dad confronted her. And now Ethan was, too.
Don didn’t want Dad to see his youngest son like that. His real son.
No. He shouldn’t think like that. Just because Dad wasn’t his biological father didn’t make him any less of a dad. Don couldn’t help but feel like a substitute son, though. After all, Dad did tell him about how he’d almost left Mom when he discovered she was pregnant with another man’s baby....
“Are you hungry?” Dad asked from the driver’s seat.
“Not really,” Don replied, looking out the window at the trees lining the long highway.
“I’m sorry to make you miss work like this.”
“I wouldn’t really say I ‘miss’ it,” Don joked. “Besides, I’m the one who’s sorry. Your brother passed away.”
“He lived a lot longer than anyone predicted he would.” Dad grinned proudly. “How is work going?”
“Good,” Don lied. “I’m going to start looking for a new job when I get back, though.”
“You don’t like the place you’re at now?”
“Nope.”
They drove on in silence a while longer. Don had been so close to mentioning Ethan.
* * *
Time had not touched Uncle Nate’s house in Destin. Don couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen it. Had it been 1996? It couldn’t have been that long ago, could it?
It was late in the day; Don and Dad were visibly exhausted, having left very early in the morning. Uncle Nate stood on his front porch to greet them. Don grinned as his uncle marveled at how much he’d grown over the years.
Inside, the house smelled of fried fish. Though Don didn’t eat fried foods as much as he used to, his mouth still watered.
In the dining room sat his aunts Mimi and Lydia, as well as Uncle Johnny, who still bore a faint scar on his neck. Don hoped the curse could only be passed by the creature itself and not the cursed. As far as he could tell, his uncle was just fine.
Don greeted Nina and Candice in the living room and they talked for a while. The house got even more crowded as time passed. Don was surrounded by relatives he hadn’t seen in over a decade and was happier than he’d been in a long time.
* * *
The good times ended once the wake began. Uncle Billy’s body was held in a tiny funeral home. Nearly the entire Scott clan gathered inside, speaking to one another casually, as if they were anywhere but a funeral home. Aunt Mimi spoke of how good Billy looked in his black suit. To Don, he did look handsome and very peaceful.
All those wasted years, and Don never got to see him before he died. Why? Don had been living with Dad all that time, and Dad had made occasional trips here to visit. But Don had never gone with him.
And then he remembered the cave in Destin. Don had wanted to stay away from the place where his mom had been cursed. He had only come now for the funeral, not just some visit.
He looked around at the family he hadn’t seen in a decade. He was unafraid of the creature that lurked in this town because he was surrounded by love. Though love was not a cure for the curse, it was at least a suppressant.
There were tears at the funeral. Most of them came from Aunt Mimi, whom Don was seated behind. Dad was seated next to her, and Don could see him sobbing quietly.
That was enough to get Don going.
He’d never seen his father cry before. At least, not that he could remember. Surely, Dad cried at Grandpa’s funeral. But that had been so long ago. What about Grandma’s? Don hadn’t attended that funeral a few years back because of school.
As the family sat in the church and listened to the kind words from a few of Uncle Billy’s friends, Don wondered where he would want to be buried when he died. Georgia? Texas? Florida? Connecticut? He had fond memories of each state, but figured Texas would be the best choice. He already lived there, after all, so he might as well rest there.
He was snapped back from his morbid thoughts when a gospel choir began singing. He wiped his tears away and listened.
After the funeral, most of the family returned to the hotel near Uncle Nate’s house. Don changed into jeans and a T-shirt while Dad took a nap. The plan for the night was to have a nice, big family meal at Uncle Nate’s house and then go clubbing with the cousins.
But, first, there was something Don needed to do.
Without asking, he grabbed Dad’s keys off the dresser and snuck out. It was only three in the afternoon, so he had some time to run his errand. He just hoped he remembered how to get where he was going.
After ten minutes of driving, he realized he had no idea where he was going. Destin wasn’t that big, but he had never driven around in it by himself before, and it had been a long time since his last visit. He knew to look for dense woods. He also remembered a trail just off the highway.
The highway he currently drove on was surrounded by trees. He drove slowly, for the trail would be hidden on his right. He saw one and turned onto it, amazed at how long it stretched on for. The trail was incredibly bumpy, and at first seemed closed in by the canopy of trees. But then the left side opened up into a vast valley littered with huge power lines. Don instinctively looked to his right and saw a hill.
On top of the hill was his grandparents’ old home.
The trail finally curved to the right where two large manufactured homes rested. The one on the left was practically enveloped in bushes; no one appeared to be home. He studied the one straight ahead—his dad’s childhood home.
But that wasn’t where he wanted to go.
He looked beyond, to the creepy woods.
* * *
As he walked, he remembered the tale Grandpa had told him: the one about the creature in a cave in the woods. Don had been so
young when he’d heard it, but he recalled enough to know whatever had bitten Mom when he was a kid lived out here. He planned to find it and...what? Could it even be killed? Would killing it end the curse?
Don had seen enough horror movies to consider that a possibility. But what could he kill it with? He had no weapons. There were plenty of rocks lying around. If only it were raining—the creature, whatever it was, seemed to fear thunderstorms.
Don suddenly grew nauseated. A sharp pain took his stomach. It felt like his intestines were being twisted. He hunched over for what felt like minutes until it passed slightly.
When he stood up, he saw the cave.
It loomed at the bottom of a hill in front of him. He didn’t even notice it before the pain. He stared at it now, wondering whether or not to climb down. He looked around himself to get his bearings so he could find this place again later.
He decided not to go near that cave unarmed, but at least he’d found it. And he knew it was the right place. The pain had confirmed it.
After turning around, he noticed his stomach easing the farther away he got from that place. He knew it was a defense mechanism, to keep people away from it. That was how the monster kept from being found all these years. But Don wasn’t going to let that stop him.
* * *
He was back at the hotel long before Dad woke up. The two of them got ready for dinner and met Aunt Mimi, Aunt Lydia and the others in the parking lot so they could carpool over to Uncle Nate’s.
After the feast, Don, Nina, Candice, Jabari and Quinton headed out to downtown Destin. The sun had set, but the neon lights from the shops and restaurants lit the way. Don felt like he was in Vegas. The few hours he spent with his cousins, drinking and dancing, were just what he needed.
When they returned to the hotel, Don was drunk and his ears were ringing from the music. Dad, surprisingly enough, was asleep again. Don settled down on his own bed, feeling the world spin around him.
“Did you have fun?” Dad suddenly asked.
Don jumped in shock and then regretted it. He felt like he was going to vomit. “Yeah, a lot of fun.”
“I wish your brother could’ve been here with the family.”
Don had no reply for that, though, in a way, he wished the same thing.
“There’s something I have to tell you about your brother,” Dad said after a silent moment. “Your mother didn’t kill Adrian; Ethan did.”
The room grew silent once again. Don was almost glad he was drunk; it helped him to cope with this news.
“Your mom told me the night she died,” Dad went on, sounding sad and sleepy. “At first, I thought she was just telling me that to hurt me. But, deep down, I believed her.”
“It’s the curse, Dad,” Don finally said. “It wasn’t Ethan’s fault.”
“There is no curse, son.” And then he slept once more, leaving Don alone with his thoughts.
* * *
The next morning, everyone had breakfast in the hotel’s café. The cousins reminisced about last night’s escapades with smiles on their faces. There was one last stop at Uncle Nate’s before Don and Dad were on the road again. It was late when Don finally made it back to his townhouse. Craig and Corey were still awake, Corey playing on the computer and Craig watching TV on the futon.
“Hey, man,” Craig greeted in his usual way.
Don waved wearily and trotted up the stairs to his room. When he got there, he called in to work to find out his next shift was tomorrow night. He thanked Rosie and hung up.
And then he had a nightmare of Ethan stalking into his room and standing at the foot of his bed for what felt like the entire night. Don had been so tired he couldn’t even move anything but his eyes as he watched the dark silhouette of his brother. Don’s heart had beat so hard in his chest it felt like lava was being pumped through his body.
When he finally woke, his bedroom door was wide open, despite the fact he had closed it. When he went downstairs, he saw Craig playing on the computer. Don’s two roommates seemed to be on that computer 24/7, switching out every few hours.
Craig turned to look at Don, his eyes suddenly going wide. “Soon?”
Don stopped just outside the tiny kitchen. “What?”
“That’s what it says on your forehead—Soon.”
Don whipped around to look at a mirror by the front door. He could see it all the way from across the living room, written in red. Soon. He touched his forehead gently, afraid the word had been carved there. He felt no pain, and found the word rubbing off easily. “Lipstick,” he said to himself.
“Did you go to a party last night?”
Instead of answering, Don ran back upstairs and searched his room. After a minute, he found what he was looking for. Lipstick, on his dresser. He picked it up and returned to Craig.
“That’s Neve’s,” said Craig. “Our old roommate—Corey’s ex-girlfriend.”
He seemed maddeningly calm about this. Don gestured to his own forehead and said, “I didn’t write this.”
Craig’s face changed to that of worry. “I didn’t say you did. Who do you think did, though?”
Don scrubbed the rest of the letters off and said, “I think my brother was in here again last night. I thought I only dreamed seeing him, but....”
Ethan really had been in Don’s room. He had been too exhausted to separate dream from reality, which frightened him greatly.
“What does ‘soon’ mean?” Craig asked.
“I have no idea.”
Chapter 17
Returning to work that night filled Don with dread, but he had to do it. Not only could he not afford to miss another day, but he had to confront Ethan if he could. Don almost feared going to sleep with his brother on the loose. But he had to keep working, keep making money. Now that he was living on his own, he had responsibilities he still wasn’t used to.
After seeing Rosey off, he immediately began his rounds. Something was wrong; he could feel it. There was a thick tension in the air. He had his cell phone on him in case he needed to call the police.
He walked past the movie theater and saw the gate was still partially open. He wondered where all the homeless stayed, if not in there. Had Ethan bothered any of them while he’d been in Florida?
Eventually, Don found himself in front of a theater of a different kind—a playhouse. The mall played host to a community-theater group. The entrance looked grand, with intricate wooden doors fake lanterns set up on either side. There were posters advertising plays like Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. That play had been performed months ago.
He was about to turn around and continue his circuit when he noticed the wood was splintered around the doorknobs of the playhouse’s entrance. He pulled the door open. Someone had broken in. He shined his flashlight inside.
He turned it off once he realized it wasn’t needed.
There were candles everywhere in the small lobby. There was another set of double doors in front of him, so he opened them. A fairly large stage loomed ahead, lit by even more candles. There were no chairs in which to sit, and Don found himself drawn down the aisle to the stage.
Some people were there. They were all dead.
Numbly, he counted seven—men and women. Some of them had been decapitated.
When Don looked down, he saw three heads by his feet. He recognized one of them as Amelia’s. He suddenly couldn’t breathe. His heart hammered in his chest. He tried to leave.
A slow, loud clap startled him. It came from the stage, but he only saw the bodies, arranged in various poses and held up by mannequin stands.
Another clap—slow applause.
“Did you enjoy your vacation?” a horrible croak of a voice asked. From everywhere.
The speaker system.
“It wasn’t a vacation!” Don yelled in no particular direction. “Our uncle died!”
“Which one?”
“Billy.”
“I see,” the voice replied after a brief silence. “I almost follow
ed you, but decided to wait and...keep your friends company.”
That voice sounded so horrible through the speakers. Don willed himself to look back at the homeless on the stage. “How could you do this?” he asked the terrible, disembodied voice. “Why are you murdering all these innocent people?”
“I wanted you to know I was coming,” replied the voice. “I wanted to remind you of how you failed me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about how you failed to protect your little brother from the monster. You let it take me that night.”
“There was nothing I could do! Our mom had just died. I was in shock!” Don felt rage grow inside him.
“You let the monster take your little brother,” the voice repeated, this time from somewhere on the stage.
“You gave yourself to it when you killed Adrian,” Don retorted. “Happy birthday, by the way.”
The slow applause returned, and now a figure appeared from behind a curtain on the stage. Don finally saw, for the first time in nine years, his brother Ethan. And he looked more terrible than Don anticipated.
Ethan continued to clap, his arms lean and sinewy. He wore a dirty red shirt and blue jeans. His hair was a curly mess. And then there was that jackal grin. His eyes were bright and glossy. “You remembered,” he finally said as he ceased clapping.
“July twenty-seventh.”
“I never thought I’d reach twenty years.” Ethan tipped his head back and laughed a witch’s cackle. Don shuddered. “Does Dad know I’m back?”
“No,” said Don. “I never told him.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t want him to see you like this; better to think you died a long time ago.”
Ethan’s too-wide grin shrunk to what could pass for normal. “Why would you do that for him? He’s not your real father.”
That stung Don only slightly. “He’s the closest thing I have.”
Ethan nodded as he jumped off the stage and walked closer to his brother. “Would you like to hear what I’ve been up to all these years?”