Shades of Night (Sparrow Falls Book 1)

by Justine Sebastian

  Hunter had been found by his Uncle Chuck not too far from the west side of his house. The old man had come out looking for him because they were meant to go hunting that morning. It had been Hunter’s old hog dog, Boudin that led him to the body. Chuck had gone into the house to greet Hunter, figuring he was already up, and the dog had nearly knocked him down on his way out the door.

  Alarmed by the animal’s behavior, Chuck had followed and later told the police he hadn’t really wanted to. Something about the dog’s barks had felt all wrong, had told him all he needed to know. Then Boudin had started howling, the gut-ripping squalling of an animal grieving. Not long after, Chuck had found what was left of his nephew’s body and promptly thrown up.

  The coroner ruled Hunter’s death an animal attack and no one disputed it. The man had been torn to pieces and partially eaten. They said it was probably a stray cougar, though Tom over at the little general store in the community was convinced it was a black cat. Said black cat was not a mere housecat, oh no. This particular black cat was supposedly a phantom black cat, like those sighted all over Great Britain for many years. Tom said he’d seen one not too long ago and there were in fact two grainy game camera pictures of such a creature.

  It was a violent enough death that it made the local news and the citizens had been strongly advised to keep on the lookout. Wildlife agents were combing the area trying to find the culprit so they could put it down now that it was a man-killer. The thing no one in their little community was saying was that they didn’t believe it had been a cougar.

  E.O. Fussell had been in the general store talking (borderline arguing) with Tom that very afternoon when Nick went in for some bread. E.O. had slammed his fist down on the counter and insisted that it weren’t no panther cat, it was got-damn Bigfoot. Tom had countered and said there was ample evidence it probably was a cougar (or his beloved phantom black cat) but absolutely none that it was a Bigfoot, going all the way back to there being no real evidence Bigfoot existed in the first damn place. They had started arguing in earnest about that time.

  Nick had paid for his bread and not allowed himself to be drawn into the disagreement. When he got home, Nancy had spoken to Hunter’s mother and got the information about the wake. They went to the wake that evening and the following day they went to the funeral. Nick wore the only good clothes he had; his job interview outfit, and Nancy wore proper black. The casket was done in a camouflage motif that must have cost roughly the same as a mid-size sedan and it seemed to fill the room.

  Everyone was preoccupied by sorrow and thoughts of what Hunter’s body looked like beneath the closed lid. Only Chuck McAllister knew what his nephew’s body looked like—and Nick noticed he never glanced up from the tips of his shiny black dress shoes either. The entire proceeding was claustrophobic, the air thick with grief and confusion.

  Nick thought it would never end, but eventually it did and afterward Nancy suggested they go to the carnival anyway. Nick really didn’t want to go; he was sad about the death of his old friend. Hunter had been a good guy then and a damn good friend; even though he’d always been more hesitant to get up to no good than Nick and Hylas or Aaron. However, Hunter had still been a reliable watch guy and he’d never ratted them out or tattled about Hylas feigning one of his narcoleptic episodes so Nick could steal a fifth of Jack from the liquor store. Nick had liked Hunter even though they’d lost touch well before he ever left Sparrow Falls.

  In the end, Nancy convinced him to go because she was right when she said they would be doing no one any favors if they sat at home and moped. In fact, they needed to get out and take in the fresh air, look at the gaily decorated trees. Maybe they’d accidentally have some fun in the process and even if they didn’t, it was still better than sitting at home drinking and stewing in their grief.

  The Christmas Carnival was beautiful, Nick would give it that. Maybe it struck him as so lovely because he hadn’t seen it in so long. Nick had stopped going by the time he was sixteen. Something about that made him think of Hunter again, of how they had drifted apart and rarely even spoke though they had been neighbors. It was nostalgia tinged with sadness: Hunter and the carnival, all of Sparrow Falls and the familiar faces it harbored; reminders of how much time Nick had spent trying to destroy himself. It hadn’t been conscious, but it had been something he did all the same. He’d hated Sparrow Falls and most of its inhabitants, had resented everything it represented in his mind. Nick had wanted nothing more than to be shut of the place, to be rid of every reminder of it, including Nancy and Hylas, his two best friends in the whole world.

  “Do you still talk to Hylas?” Nick asked as they made their way down the main thoroughfare. It was a real winter wonderland, minus the snow. It didn’t snow much in Louisiana and when it did it was seldom, if ever, in December. It was one thing Nick had always wanted from the season: a white Christmas, but living so far south guaranteed he would probably never have that.

  “Yeah,” Nancy said. Her solemn expression turned to a grin. “I was wondering when you were going to ask. You never mentioned him in your letters or phone calls.”

  “I didn’t think about him much,” Nick said. He hadn’t thought about Nancy much either when he wasn’t talking to her or replying to one of her letters. It made prison easier, less of a weight around his neck. Not thinking about the things he was missing made life inside bearable.

  Nancy hummed something noncommittal and then said, “He’s still Hylas. All of him—head to toe. You know.”

  “You mean he’s still hot,” Nick said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Nancy said. “He works for the paper doing all kinds of crap; taking pictures, writing articles. He even does some of the obituaries.”

  “His brother must be so proud,” Nick said.

  “God, Tobias,” Nancy said with a shiver. “What is it with that guy?”

  “I don’t know.” Nick took a long drink through the bright red straw jutting up from his Big Gulp cup that was filled with a fifty-fifty mix of Coca-Cola and Wild Turkey. He had noticed there were lots of folks out with Big Gulp cups; there always were.

  “Ugh,” Nancy said and then took a long drink of her own.

  Tobias Dunwalton had that effect on people.

  “Speaking of…”

  Nick nodded toward one of the Christmas tree displays set up along the broad avenue that ran through the middle of the fairgrounds. Tobias was standing alone in front of the trees, head tipped back and a little smile on his face as he bathed in the twinkling glow of the lights. Around him, people milled and looked at the trees, but there was a wide circumference around Tobias himself. Most people never got very close to Hylas’s twin brother if they could help it.

  It was a shame, too, because if Hylas was hotter than hell then Tobias was stunningly beautiful. Everything about him was elegant, from the shape of his goddamn eyebrows, to his perfect jaw line and broad shoulders all the way down to the long, slender taper of his fingers. Tobias looked like some fine work of art brought to life and left to wander around (scaring the fuck out of people). He had hair the color of jet and eyes to match, but his skin was the ominous white of poppy blossoms. He could’ve been an albino, his skin said he should’ve been, but his hair and eye color left that idea on the cutting room floor. Looking at Tobias was like looking at a piece of human perfection and he was revolting.

  He turned to look at Nick and Nancy and smiled; he had a drop-dead gorgeous smile, too, one more beautiful thing about Tobias. Nick and Nancy both froze like they had been singled out and spotlighted. Tobias was kind, nice as any one person could be despite the way people treated him. No one was really mean to Tobias though, he hadn’t been bullied in school and no one harassed him when he was out running errands. They parted around him like a stream cutting a path around a boulder; he stood still and they flowed around him.

  There was a butterfly perched on the lapel of Tobias’s dark coat. At first Nick thought it was a pin then he saw its wings open and close slowly. Butterflies
were uncommon that time of year, but sometimes there were late season stragglers because it was usually warmer down south for longer. Sometimes the butterflies missed the large migrations and got left behind. Almost all of them froze to death once the cold found its foothold.

  “Hello,” Tobias said. “Season’s greetings.”

  “Same to you,” Nancy said. Her voice was a little weak as she sidestepped and bumped into Nick.

  Tobias turned his brilliant smile on him. “Nicholas Alexander Lange. Long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

  “Living the dream,” Nick said.

  “I see,” Tobias said. He glanced back at the tree he’d been admiring. “They’ve outdone themselves this year.”

  “It’s very nice,” Nancy agreed. “We should be—”

  “Going,” Tobias said with a sigh. A frown creased his brow, there and then gone again but unmistakable. It had to be exhausting just being Tobias, to always be avoided and maligned through no fault of his own. “Hylas is here tonight. It’s been such a long time since you saw one another. He will be happy to see you, Nick.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Nick said.

  Tobias bowed his head in a slight nod, wings of his shoulder-length hair falling around his pale face. Then he clasped his hands behind his back and laced his long fingers together as he turned to walk away, the tail of his coat gently twirling out around him. On Tobias, even that was elegant.

  “I’m sorry,” Nick blurted.

  “So am I,” Nancy said. She grabbed Nick’s hand in a vicious squeeze and pressed herself tight against his side.

  Tobias halted mid-step and slowly lowered his foot back to the ground. He looked at them over his shoulder and smiled again, faint and a little sad. “It’s quite all right,” he said. “I’m used to it by now.” His smile widened and he shrugged. “At least you two made eye contact. That is so rare.”

  Tobias turned his head away and began walking again before either of them could say anything. They watched the crowd part around him with an eerie kind of precision that seemed choreographed but was unconscious. People skirted around Tobias without even really seeing him; their conversations never lapsed, their steps never faltered, they never even glanced up from the brightly lit screens of their smart phones.

  However, one person veered out of the stream of people diverging around Tobias and went right up to him. She handed him a cone of cotton candy then hooked her arm through his when he offered her his elbow. Dawn Marie Schuler was the only other person besides Hylas who seemed to want to be near Tobias.

  “Do you ever wonder about those two?” Nancy asked.

  “I think it’s platonic,” Nick said. “Maybe not, but I think so.”

  “I feel like such an asshole every time I see him,” Nancy said. She even hung her head. “We’ve known him forever and I don’t think I’ve actually had a single conversation with him. Sometimes I don’t think it’s even him; I think it might be us.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Nick said. “I know.”

  Nancy took another drink through her straw then blew her hair out of her face. “Shit,” she said. “This has been a crappy day.”

  “Yeah,” Nick said again. He wasn’t really listening. He was looking at the way the wind ruffled the bright wings of the butterfly that had been perched on Tobias’s coat. When they blew a certain way, they almost looked black. He blinked and tugged at Nancy. “C’mon, let me buy you a ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl.”

  “Oh, be still my heart,” Nancy said with a laugh.

  Nick grinned and they walked on toward the midway, thoughts of Tobias pushed from their minds. The hum of conversation at the carnival was muted, even on the midway where it was usually the most raucous. Of course, the atmosphere wasn’t quite as cheerful as it usually was. People were hung up on what had happened to Hunter. It was the buzz of the town, the chatter of the people, the grist that fed the gossip mill. Nick bought a few tickets for rides at the booth and tried to think happy thoughts.

  After the Tilt-A-Whirl, the Spider and two turns on the Zipper, they played a few games. Nancy won a stuffed tiger in a purple and gold Santa hat that she gave to Nick. He didn’t actually play any games; he was nearly tapped out after paying for the rides. He didn’t get paid for nearly two weeks and he had seven dollars and twenty-six cents to his name at the moment. That was a pack of cigarettes and a candy bar. If not for Nancy having stocked his cabinets and fridge, Nick would’ve been eating a lot of ramen and not smoking.

  As they left the midway, his thoughts started turning to his old standby like a bad habit he couldn’t break. He could turn a couple of tricks no problem and even if the johns were vanilla, that was still a hundred and fifty bucks for two. If they were kinkers of any sort, that only meant more money for Nick.

  “Since you sprang for the rides, how about I spring for the snacks?” Nancy asked. She was a little drunk and her hair was a mess. She looked happy, a vast improvement from how she had looked at Hunter’s funeral.

  “Funnel cake?” he asked.

  “Fuck yeah, funnel cake.” Nancy pointed to one of the food stalls where people were stacked three deep waiting to place their orders. “I was thinking a couple of those giant corn dogs, too. I see it like this: as long as we’re wrecking our livers, we should also clog our arteries.”

  “Sound logic,” Nick said. He slurped more Wild Turkey through his straw.

  “I keep telling you that I’m brilliant,” she said. “Back in a bit.”

  She wandered off to the food stall and Nick leaned against the side of the agricultural building where the bulk of the Christmas trees were being displayed. Nancy was soon lost in the swamp of people and the shadows thrown by all of the lights. While he waited, Nick lit a cigarette and tipped his head back, blowing smoke rings at the twinkle lights.

  “Hi… Um… It’s you.”

  Nick cut his eyes to the side to get a better look at the blurry figure he’d been aware of at the corner of his peripheral vision for a couple of minutes. He thought it was someone else stopping to take a rest, maybe also waiting; he’d ignored them for the most part. He’d been in prison for a decade though; he’d learned how to watch things from the side pretty well. He didn’t need details, only the ability to see movement and he had seen when the person turned to look at him. If all they wanted to do was look then Nick didn’t care—looking was free.

  The blurry figure turned out to be Wes. He had an expensive looking camera hanging from a strap around his neck and a goddamn awful red Christmas sweater with two large reindeer on either side of a wreath. He looked ridiculous and uncomfortable, painfully shy and pink-cheeked from the cold or embarrassment. He hadn’t seen Wes since the night he bought Nick’s company and had largely put him out of his mind. After a while, one john became another until they were all a blur that smelled like semen and sweat.

  He smiled at Wes, light and teasing as he raised his cup. “It is me. How are you, Wes from Atlanta?”

  “I’m okay, thank you for asking,” Wes said. “How’ve you been?”

  “Good,” Nick said. It was a little bit of a lie, one of his old friends had recently been torn apart and he was not good with that. It was funny though that Wes was treating this like an awkward run-in with a one night stand instead of bumping into a hooker whom he had absolutely no obligation whatsoever to engage in conversation with.

  “That’s… good,” Wes said. He shuffled his feet and looked away from Nick to gaze at the milling crowd. On the stage the local junior high school chorus sang “Come All Ye Faithful”.

  Nick kept his eyes on Wes, read his body language and raised his eyebrows. So it was like that. He really had not expected to ever see Wes again after that night, especially not with the way he had left him; naked and ashamed.

  He turned to lean his shoulder against the building and smiled again, nice and inviting. “What can I do for you, Wes?”

  “Oh, God.” Wes turned bright red and Nick bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. They usually
weren’t as cute as Wes, but Nick knew this kind of john, too. Nick had scratched an itch for Wes, one he didn’t feel like he could scratch back in Atlanta on his home turf where he presumably had friends and neighbors, co-workers and maybe even a boyfriend who was unaware of Wes’s kinkier proclivities.

  “It’s okay,” Nick said. He moved a little closer so they could keep their voices down though it was unlikely anyone would hear them or pay that much attention to what they were saying. Just like at the bar, no one cared; it was noisy and everyone was preoccupied with their own little pockets of reality. Public places were the best places for this kind of transaction.

  “I’m so obvious.” Wes was talking to his shoes, a nice pair of brown boots that looked new.

  “Not that obvious,” Nick said even though Wes absolutely was. “I just know the signs.”

  “Do you do… that… a lot?”

  Nick shrugged one shoulder. “Not in a long time until I met you.”

  “Well… that’s… I don’t know what that is,” Wes said.

  “Call it kismet,” Nick offered.

  Wes laughed and glanced up at him. “Maybe. I was… you see… Can I…”

  “Yes,” Nick said to spare Wes his spluttering. “When?”

  “Tonight?” Wes asked. “I mean, not right now, but later? In a couple of hours maybe? If you’re not busy, I mean. I don’t want to—”

  Nick wanted to ask Wes just what his damage was, but he didn’t. In all honesty, that would have been unprofessional as hell. Whores were the cheapest therapists there were and they came with a bonus: you could fuck them without any long talks of ethical entanglements and they would not refer you to a new therapist for expressing sexual desire for them. If Wes wanted to pay Nick to suck and fuck away some of his demons then that was fine.

  There was Nancy to consider though, he couldn’t leave her at the carnival, but Wes had said later. Later meant Nancy would go to bed and then Nick could leave to rendezvous with Wes. Later meant Nancy would never suspect a thing. He could burn that candle at both ends and the flames would never meet.