by Hart, Jerry
Something was wrong with Dad, but Jordan couldn’t figure out what it was. Dad always had his little funks, but this one seemed worse than the others. When he wasn’t shut up in his study, he was in his room. This went on for two days and even Mom didn’t know what was going on.
The family had done most of the packing and the house was littered with large boxes filled with crap. Moving day was a week away, and instead of feeling excited, Jordan felt nervous. He’d lived in this house for so long he didn’t want to leave. He loved the old architecture, the study behind the fireplace, the den being on a lower elevation than the living room. It was just a weird, wonderful house.
He wouldn’t miss those woods behind the house, though. He’d experienced enough of them to last a lifetime. He hoped to leave that nightmare behind.
He was heading to his room when he passed Conner’s. The door was cracked open, and he could see Conner sitting at his window, looking out into the front yard. It was midday but overcast. The snow reflected nothing but white from below.
Jordan knocked on the door.
Conner turned. “Come in.”
Jordan pushed the door open and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s on your mind?”
“Just excited about the move.”
“Really? You look melancholy.”
“Jesus, lay off the big words.”
Jordan laughed. “I will if you tell me what’s wrong.”
Conner sighed. “I just feel like something bad has happened.”
“To who?”
“I don’t know. Someone I know.”
Jordan had started feeling the same way two days ago but figured it was Dad. He told Conner so.
“I think it’s Grandpa,” Conner said.
“Have you tried calling him?”
Conner nodded. “He doesn’t answer.”
“Maybe you should tell Dad. He can take us over there or something.”
“I’ve tried talking to him, but he’s always locked up somewhere.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”
“Maybe your mom can take us,” Conner suggested.
“We can ask.”
Conner turned back to the window.
“Can I ask you something?” Jordan suddenly found himself saying.
“Sure.”
“What did you do to Jack and Leo? Really?”
Conner didn’t turn back when he said, “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“But it was you, right?”
“I think so.”
“Could you have undone it if you wanted?”
“If so, I don’t know how.”
“Grandpa helped you, with whatever was going on, didn’t he?”
Conner nodded. “He helped me control my anger, my ‘demon,’ he called it. He told me it couldn’t control me if I didn’t want it to.”
“How did he know you had problems?”
“He said he’s been watching over us for a long time. He said he knew everything that was going on with us, and that he could make it all go away. And he did.”
“Do you think he could do the same for me?” Jordan asked.
“You have a demon, too?” Conner asked, skeptical. “You’ve always seemed pretty tame to me.”
“I think we all have one. Mine just lies low, waiting.”
“It would be pretty cool if you let loose, to be honest.” Conner chuckled. “You’re so...vanilla. I can’t see Erin falling for a vanilla.”
“I like to think I’m a swirl. She seems to like me well enough.”
Conner grinned. “Yeah, she does, doesn’t she.”
“What about you and Travis? You seem to be getting along well again. You two going out now?”
Conner’s grin vanished. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Okay. Sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. Thanks for taking an interest, though. It means a lot to me.”
“You’re my brother; of course I care.”
Conner was a brother. The “cousin” title was just a technicality. Jordan loved him and didn’t want to see anything bad happen to him. But he felt something bad was coming. For both of them. If something had indeed happened to Grandpa, then Jordan’s and Conner’s powers of perception were accurate. Jordan had to trust them now.
* * *
Mom drove them over to Grandpa’s house an hour later. They knocked on the door and rang the bell, but no one answered. Grandpa’s SUV was in the yard, so he had to be home.
Jordan went around to the backyard, the snow crunching under his feet. He looked through the back-porch door but saw a dim, empty house. Conner and Mom joined him a moment later, looking around the yard. Jordan noticed a dark patch by a peach tree, but the recent snowfall had covered most of it up.
“Maybe he went out of town,” Mom offered helpfully.
“I hope so,” said Conner.
“We’ll call him again in a couple of days,” said Mom as she headed back to her car. Jordan and Conner followed. Jordan didn’t take his eyes off the dark patch of yard until they drove away.
* * *
Diedre watched the Scotts drive away from the big house. She had followed them from their own home, a voice in the back of her mind telling her she was a crazy woman for doing so. But she had to follow her instincts, and they told her something big was happening.
She had parked down the street, facing the way the Scotts were going now so that they wouldn’t pass her when they left. Now she drove up to the house and parked across the street. She walked up to the red front door and knocked. She figured no one was home, but at least she could say she’d tried to announce her presence if she was caught.
She went around to the back and looked through the porch door. No one moved inside. She looked behind her, to the rest of the yard. There was a patch of disturbed earth near a peach tree. She walked over to it. She touched it with the tip of her right boot. Somebody had dug here recently, perhaps to bury something?
Diedre faced a moment of indecision. She wanted to dig up whatever was buried, but she feared what she might find. What if there was a dead body down there? How would she explain her involvement to the cops?
She turned to go. She had to think about this some more. Maybe it wasn’t a body at all. It could be anything. As she walked back to her car, she noticed a small spot of red in the snow. It was between the house and the hole. It looked like blood. Oh, boy!
* * *
Don tried to get his life back in order following the death of his father. Sure, it had only been four days ago, but he was slowly starting to feel like himself again. He was currently attending an author’s convention in Arlington—at the request of his agent—and gauged the attitudes of his fellow authors toward him and his recent troubles in life. No one appeared to think he’d done anything wrong and that he was merely a victim of terrible coincidences.
As he sat at a table, signing autographs, he came face to face with a woman he’d hoped to never see again in his lifetime. “Ms Marshall, what can I do for you now?” he asked.
Diedre smiled and handed him a copy of his latest book. “Your John Hancock will suffice.”
He opened the book, ready to sign the first page, when he noticed a photo of something. It looked like a snow-covered ground with peach trees—
Don gasped and looked back at the reporter. “What is this?”
“I found your little secret, Mr. Scott,” she replied icily. “That little hole in the backyard. I’m guessing you don’t want anyone to know what you buried there.”
She was bluffing. She didn’t know anything. “I didn’t bury anything there.”
She continued to stare him down. “Yes, you did. Blood really stands out in pure white snow, Mr. Scott.”
Oh, God! His heart hammered and he grew sweaty, and he knew the damn reporter saw this reaction as well. “What do you want?”
“I want to know everything there is to know about you and your little family drama. Who’s buried in that hole? Who killed
that person, and why?”
“Why do you want to know anything about me?”
She laughed. “Why? Because this is the most fascinating story I’ve ever encountered.”
“You want me to hang myself? For you?”
“No, Mr. Scott. For yourself. You’ve done bad things in your life, and you’re currently getting away with them. Doesn’t that eat at you at night?”
“Yes. It does. You have no idea.”
“Then let me help you tell the world. Let me help you clear your conscience.”
“Nothing and no one can do that for me, Ms. Marshall.”
She stood up straight at the reply. “It’s not entirely your fault, is it? I met Ivy Peterson. I saw...what she is. You’re the same way, aren’t you?”
That caught Don short. “What do you mean by ‘what she is’?”
“The multiple personalities.”
Don’s eyebrows drew together. “Ivy doesn’t have multiple personalities.”
“I saw the other one, Mr. Scott. That woman is not well, and I’m guessing that’s why she killed her boyfriend all those years ago.”
Don couldn’t process any of this. “What exactly did she tell you?”
“She said that you’re all guilty, and that she was going to come back. Or something.”
Come back? That sounded similar to what the demon had told Don in the woods. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered, half truthfully.
She didn’t appear to like that response. “I could go to the police with my information.”
“Knock yourself out. I buried a dog in that hole. Feel free to dig it up if you’re morbid enough.”
She didn’t know for a fact that a human was in that hole. She couldn’t risk digging it up if there had been. Don knew that. He’d had enough of this horrible woman, and he wasn’t going to jump through hoops for her. He would bluff the shit out of her until she backed off.
She snatched the book from the table, turned on her heel, and left.
* * *
When he got home, he went straight for his study. But he never reached it. Monica cut him off just at the bottom of the steps that led into the den. “We need to talk,” she said firmly.
“About what?”
“Stephen. The kids are worried about him, and we can’t get a hold of him. Do you know where he is?”
He couldn’t tell her that his father had been ripped apart and buried in his own backyard like an animal. He just couldn’t. “No,” he said.
“Don, don’t lie to me. I thought we moved past this.”
“We did. I can’t tell you where he is, and that’s the truth.”
“Is he all right, at least?”
“No, he’s not.”
“Is there anything we can do to help him?”
“No.”
That was all he was willing to tell her. If she pressed, he would seal his lips. Luckily, she dropped the subject.
“Listen, I want to take you out,” said Don. “Just you and me.”
“Why?”
“Because it feels like we haven’t spent enough time together, and I want to show you how much I love you.”
She liked the sound of that. “What do you have in mind?”
“Dinner downtown, and maybe sex in a beautiful, expensive hotel.”
“You really think I’m the kind of woman who falls for expensive gifts?” She laughed. “Well, all right. We can do that. But it’ll have to be this weekend. I work the next few days.”
“Okay. It’s a date.”
He went down to his study to think about what Diedre told him. There was no way Ivy was cursed. He’d known her for over a decade; he would’ve seen signs. But Diedre’s testimony was too compelling. If she was telling the truth, the demon had communicated through Ivy. The only way that could be even remotely possible was because she’d carried a cursed child in her.
Conner.
Was that enough to provide a link to the demon? If so....
Monica!
The implications were too terrible to think about. If Ivy was somehow connected to the curse via Conner, then it was possible Monica was through Jordan. Don looked through the fireplace and saw his beautiful wife going through the mail. She suddenly looked up, her back to Don. She slowly turned around and grinned at him.
* * *
Jordan woke to a sound. He wasn’t sure where it had come from, but he knew it wasn’t the TV in front of him. He was in the den, the picture from the screen illuminating the entire room. The volume was turned down, providing a nice white noise that had helped him fall asleep. He’d had trouble sleeping up in his room, and didn’t have a TV up there. Though the prospect of spending any time in the den at night spooked him at first, he eventually got over it.
Now he wished he’d stayed upstairs, because he heard more noise coming from the living room in front of him. He couldn’t see up there, but it sounded like someone was coming through the front door.
Jordan slowly got to his feet and stood at the steps, looking around the corner. He saw something up there, a silhouette making its way into the kitchen. Jordan crossed over to the other steps that led there. That was the good and bad thing about this house—you could get to the den either through the kitchen or the living room. It was convenient for those who lived here...and also for intruders.
Jordan tried to keep his eyes on both ways into the den—the kitchen in front and the living room behind. He couldn’t hear any more movement and had no idea where the dark shape had gone. He tried looking around the corner into the kitchen, but it was too dark.
No, there was someone up there. He could see a shape sitting at the small dining nook by the refrigerator. Its back was to Jordan, so he chanced going up a few steps to get a better look.
Suddenly, one of the steps creaked.
The figure spun around.
“What are you doing?” Conner asked.
Jordan took a deep, relieved breath. “You scared the shit out of me, fool. I thought you were a burglar.” He flipped on the kitchen light.
Conner looked like hell. His face was pale, and there were dark circles around his eyes. His eyes looked bright as well, as if a light burned within. He’d looked like this once before—the night they’d gone laser tagging.
“What happened to you?” Jordan asked him.
“Rough night.”
“Where were you?”
Conner shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it.
Jordan sat across from him. “Are you all right, at least?”
“I’m really hungry.”
“There’s pizza in the fridge.” He got up and retrieved it for his cousin.
Conner immediately dug into the pizza, eating it like a crazed animal.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jordan joked.
Conner paused for a second, not quite looking at Jordan, and then resumed eating.
* * *
The next few days at school were weird, and not just because they were the last before Christmas break. Something was off, and it took Jordan a while to realize what it was.
Travis didn’t show up.
That in and of itself wasn’t peculiar, and no one else would have read anything into it. But Jordan felt the absence as significant. He asked Erin about it and she said she didn’t know anything, but she would check later on. Travis hadn’t missed a single day this year, and she also found it strange.
When Jordan got home, he ran into his parents getting ready for their date night. Mom was dressed in a beautiful lavender dress with a gold necklace that Dad bought her years ago. Dad was wearing a nice black shirt and pants that looked both formal and casual at the same time.
“We’ll be back late tonight,” said Mom. “You boys behave. No parties, okay?”
“Yes, Mom.”
She kissed his forehead, and she and Dad left around six.
That just left Jordan and Conner. Conner was in his room; he’d gone straight there when they got home from schoo
l and never came out. Jordan decided to check on him, knocking on his door. Conner answered after a minute of constant knocking.
He looked even worse than he did that one morning. The circles around his eyes were darker and his pupils were even brighter.
“What is wrong with you?” Jordan asked slowly.
Conner shook his head the same way he had at the breakfast table and closed the door.
* * *
Erin came around unexpectedly thirty minutes later, looking frightened.
“What’s wrong?” Jordan asked her as he let her into the living room.
“Something happened to Travis,” she said breathlessly. “He’s...like Jack and Leo.”
Jordan took a moment to register that. “Are you fucking serious?” he managed.
She nodded. “I went to his house. His dad told me, and I went to the hospital with him. He’d just stopped by to pick up some stuff for Travis. Jordan, Travis looked awful. I’ve never seen him like that.”
She was terrified, and Jordan felt terrible for her. He hugged her, feeling her shake in his arms. He went through what she had just told him. Travis was like Jack and Leo, possibly seeing demons every time he closed his eyes, feeling them touch his skin.
Conner did this to him.
Jordan looked over his shoulder at the second floor. He heard Conner’s door close quietly.
Chapter 12
Downtown Fort Worth was a wonderful place. Don always enjoyed coming down here, ever since he lived here with Craig and Corey years ago. The lights, the music. He and Monica headed down one street, passing a large book store. He could smell baked goods and coffee and see people milling around inside. He wondered if anybody would recognize him if he went in. Probably not.
At least, not from his fiction work. They might do so because of the attention he’d been getting over the past few months. Thanks to Mr. Leper and Diedre Marshall.
He kept walking, trying to push those thoughts from his mind. He had more important things to focus on: Monica. He couldn’t wrap his head around the concept of her being connected to the demon. But he had seen that jackal grin...or thought he had, anyway. He’d been far away. It could have been a regular grin. He tried to convince himself it was.
Don told himself he was overreacting, but he wanted to be sure. Had to be sure. And he wanted to be far away from the kids, just in case. Though he had no proof Monica was involved in any way, he wanted to be safe than sorry. He still couldn’t believe that Ivy was tethered to the creature, but Diedre had provided compelling evidence. He had to visit Ivy when he got a chance. He had to see for himself.