He sighed. “Still, it’s not all that different from what it was back then.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope.” Fred closed the door and started up the steps. He hesitated. The boards looked more deeply bowed than the last time. He debated trusting his weight to them and then decided to go ahead. The boards creaked ominously and sagged slightly. He looked to his left. The wooden rocking chair – minus its woven seat – stood in the far corner, just as it had when he first saw it with its lanky owner, Perdis Flowers, seated with his legs stretched before him like an ancient scarecrow.
“He’s grown strong,” Diane murmured.
Fred turned. Amanda closed her door and looked behind her. Diane squatted in the parking lot with her hands splayed in the dirt and gravel. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed, as her fingers moved slowly over the ground. Amanda looked at Fred.
“We must act soon,” Diane’s eyes snapped open. She looked up at them. “No later than the next full moon.”
“You know what this thing is?” Fred asked.
“Not what,” she replied. “Who. The Tsalagi had a name for him. They called him Asvyai gago wadiyi nana nudale ukadv – He who puts on another face. He was here when our people hunted at the edge of the glaciers. He can take any form he chooses – wolf, bear, cougar, departed loved one, distant lover. His lures are many. Those foolish enough to hunt him must face their deepest fears. He pulls them from their memories to make them weak with terror. Then he devours them. Anyone careless enough to be near his lair after sundown is doomed.
“Those nights when the moon is dark are when he is most powerful. That is when he uses his most cunning and irresistible lure to attract and bring to him an unwary nubile female.”
Fred started. “What lure?”
“Usually music of some sort. The Tsalagi spoke of hearing the beat of the aholi – drum – in their heads.”
“What about fiddle music? Could he use that?”
Diane thought for a moment and then shrugged. “I don’t see why not. In this region, in these times, it would probably be effective. Why do you ask?”
“On that weekend there was a new moon. The guys heard fiddle music at night coming from up on the ridge.”
“I can’t say for sure. The time was certainly right.” Diane stood and brushed her hands together.
“Why music?”
“The Tsalagi say it is his mating song. He uses music to lure an unwary female to his lair so that he may mate with her.”
“Is it possible for such a union to produce children?”
“Definitely.”
Fred thought of the goblin boy from that night and shuddered.
“Remind me to stay indoors on the nights of the new moon,” Amanda said with a shiver.
“If you hear his song, it will not matter,” Diane commented dryly. She looked up at the building. “What place is this?”
“This is – was – Purdie’s store.”
“Looks abandoned.”
Fred stepped towards the door. “That’s what I thought the first time I saw it.” He pulled the screen door. The long spring that held it closed screeched in rusty protest before breaking in the middle. A fairly new hasp and padlock held the main door closed. He wiped the grime from one of the glass panes with the edge of his hand and peered inside. All the shelves were empty. The lights on the cooler were dark. Even the ancient crank cash register on the counter stood in dejected silence, it’s wooden drawer open to show it no longer carried money.
“Looks like you might be right,” he said as he turned away. “Guess the old bastard finally died.”
Ka-click! Ka-click! The sound of hammers cocking on a double-barreled shotgun echoed from the far end of the porch.
“The old bastard’s still kickin’, Sonny. My eyes might not be what they used t’be, but two loads o’ buckshot don’t need great aim. All I gotta do is point an’ pull an’ let someone else clean up th’ mess in the mornin’. Now, state yore names an’ what bidness y’all got t’ be standin’ in front o’ my store. She’s been closed fer nigh on four years an’ they ain’t nothin’ in ‘er worth takin’.”
“It’s me, Purdie.” Fred turned slowly, his hands raised to shoulder height. “Fred Kyle. You know me. You used to know my momma, Edith Kyle, from down by Turtletown. This is Amanda Carlyle. Her daddy was with me that weekend. He died up there. And, this last woman is our friend, Diane.”
The old man’s thick white eyebrows knitted together as he squinted in thought. He leaned forward for a better look. His blue eyes rested on each face, widening slightly when he came to Diane. He nodded and turned back to Fred. Purdie relaxed his grip on the weapon as he gently thumbed the hammers forward. “I remember, now, though m’ mem’ry ain’t ’xactly what it used t’ be. That was a bad bidness back then. I heard you was th’ only survivor.”
“Yeah.”
“I was sorry t’ hear ’bout yore momma. She was a good woman.”
“Thank you, Purdie,” Fred swiped at his eyes to remove an errant tear. “She was that and more.”
“You goin’ back up t’ the cabin?”
“Yessir.”
“I seem to recollect yore momma gave me th’ keys,” Purdie said as he started checking his pockets.
“That’s alright, Purdie,” Fred said holding up his key ring. “I already got’em.”
“Oh, that’s right. I done give ’em to you already, didn’t I”
“Yes, sir, you did. A while back as I recall.”
Perdis sighed. “Y’know what, son?”
“What’s that?”
“Getting old’s a pure D bitch.”
“Sure beats the alternative,” Fred laughed.
“I don’t know,” Purdie replied. “I’ve come far nuff down thet road that I just ain’t so sure no more. So, what can I do you for? Cain’t sell you no supplies; ain’t got nothin’ to sell.”
“We’re good, Purdie. We don’t need anything. We’re just headin’ up to th’ cabin. I saw th’ store an’ just had to stop by an’ see what was what.”
“Well, ain’t no one been up there since thet Thanksgivin’ weekend. ’Ceptin’ th’ cops, o’ course. Lotta people died up there. Some good. Some maybe not so much. All yore friends, of course, plus Jake an’ Truly.”
“Didn’t know the last two, although I think I saw them up there that night.”
“Jake an’ his boys was moonshiners. They had a still up there somewhere.”
“I remember seeing a man I didn’t know.”
“Thet was prob’ly him. His oldest boy, Billy Ray, got killed up on th’ ridge ’bout a year or so later. The youngun, Bubba, got sent up to th’ penitenchry shortly after that mess at th’ cabin. Seems they found a body up in thet cave up on the ridge. Turns out it was that nigra friend o’ yours. They tied it to Bubba, so he’s up on death row waitin’ fer his turn at the needle.”
“Bubba killed Peete?”
Purdie looked sideways at Fred and his companions for a moment before replying. “Didn’t say that. Bubba claims it was some kind o’ creature or monster or somethin’ what did it. Looks t’ me like you might be thinkin’ somethin’ o’ th’ same.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, I cain’t say one way or t’ other ’bout yore young lady, there, but I got no doubts about th’ other woman. I knows a granny lady when I sees one, an’ this one looks like she might be pure blood Jool-AH-gee.”
“Your eyes do not deceive you despite your age,” Diane stepped forward with her right hand outstretched. “My name is Diane. Diane Ravenfeather. I am a Tsalagi medicine woman – a granny lady to you.”
Perdis set his shotgun aside and, after wiping the palm on his jeans, took her hand and shook it reverently. “I guess yore here t’ put things right, again.”
“I’m here to try.”
“If ennyone can help us it’d be you, ma’m. I jus’ hope you ain’t too late.”
“You and me both, Mr. Flowers. You and me b
oth.”
“You can call me Purdie, ma’m. Everyone does.”
“It would give me great pleasure, sir.”
“Well, ma’m, if there’s anything at all that I kin do t’ help y’all, you just let me know.”
“Well, Mr. Flow – Purdie – there just might be at that.”
“Name it.”
“I know your store’s closed and there’s nothing on your shelves, but there are some local plants – some herbs and stuff – that I’ll be needing. If we were in Oklahoma, I’d know right where to find them, but seeing as this is Tennessee…”
“I know just what you’re talkin’ ’bout. Well, I don’t personally know, but there’s someone back in the holler who just might. Name’s Betty June. She’s our granny lady, now, although it seems a mite strange t’ call someone who’s so young Granny. I’ll get word to ’er t’ meet with you at the cabin.”
“That would be great.” Diane gave him a huge smile. “The sooner, the better. We need to do this on the next full moon.”
Perdis thought for a moment. “That’s only nine days away. I’ll see if Levi’s aroun’. He could prob’ly do it faster’n this ol’ body could. If not, I’ll go back there m’self.”
“If you could just tell me about where she lives…”
“No offense, ma’m, but she’s a mite skittish since thet night. She don’t know you an’ she might not take kindly t’ strangers walkin’ up on her.”
“You knew who and what I was.”
“She might, too. But, why take chances if you need somethin’ so soon? Time’s no one’s friend.”
“Okay. Perhaps you know best. You live here, after all, and I don’t. It’s certainly been my pleasure to meet you, Purdie, and I hope to talk to you more before we leave.”
“Me, too.”
Diane looked at Fred. “Why don’t we head up to the cabin? I need to check things out and start making preparations.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Fred replied. “Purdie, you’re welcome up there any time. You know that.”
“Thank you,” the old man chuckled. He winked at Diane. “I just might stop by for a visit. Pleasure meetin’ you ladies. Sorry ’bout your daddy, Miss.”
“Amanda, Purdie. And, thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“I saw an owl last night,” Diane said as she gathered materials and set them on the kitchen island.
“Tha’s a good omen, ain’t it?” Betty June watched as the older woman made her preparations. Purdie’s concerns had proven groundless. The young woman fairly ran to the cabin for the chance to meet and work with a Cherokee medicine woman. The opportunity to spend some time with three other people from whom she could learn other things and relieve the tedium of life in Truly’s cabin only added to the enticement.
“One of the best. It’s the Creator’s favorite bird.”
“Why is that?”
“Didn’t Truly tell you any of the legends?”
“Some. Th’ ones she remembered or thought was important. She teached me ’bout herbs an’ remedies an’ all that. That – that thing, it took her ’fore she could teach me ’bout th’ Cherokee. She tol’ me a coupla times ‘at she was plannin’ t’ take me over t’North Carolina but it never happened. I been tryin’ t’ use her Shadow book but I only got to sixth grade an’ even then m’ readin’ warn’t so good. An’ she wrote in strange letters an’ I have t’ look’em up an’ match’em an’ what all so it takes me awhiles. Sometimes it makes m’head hurt.”
“Well, I don’t have a lot of time because I need to get ready for tonight. I guess I have time for one story.” Diane place her rolled up medicine rug on the island next to her bowl and then led the girl – young woman, really, although she seemed very child-like at times – to the dining room where both sat down.
“This is what my people, the Tsalagi – the Cherokee to you – believe to be true. A long time ago when someone powerful was making everything, he asked the trees and animals to stay awake while he created the world. It took seven days and seven nights and when it was over, only the owl and the cougar were still awake. The other animals and birds tried their best, but it was more than they could do. So, as a reward for staying awake with him, the Creator gave them both night vision and made them night hunters. Sometimes the feathers on top of the owl’s head make him look like a cat, which honors his brother, the cougar.
“Anyway, of the trees only the cedar, the pine, the spruce, the laurel, and the holly trees stayed awake all seven nights. Because of this, they were given special power. They were permitted to keep their leaves all year long. They are the most important plants in Tsalagi medicine and ceremonies.”
Betty June looked at the kitchen island. “That is why you carved your bowl from the spruce log you had me find.”
Diane patted her hand. “Exactly. Spruce is our most sacred wood. We often use it to carry our honored dead.”
“I hope it don’t come to that tonight.”
“Come to what?” Amanda asked as she entered the room.
“Diane was tellin’ me about th’ owl an’ th’ cougar an’ th’ sacred trees,” Betty replied softly. “She tol’ me how th’ spruce is their most sacred tree an’ how they use it t’ carry their dead. I jus’ said how I hope it don’t come t’ that.”
Amanda stifled a shiver. It bothered her that a woman of twenty-five or so should act like a thirteen-year-old girl. Sometimes she wondered if Betty was putting them on. At other times, however, she understood and wondered at the trauma that had so arrested her development.
My God, she thought. Tonight is the second night of the full moon cycle. The creature is supposed to be at his weakest. Tonight will decide everything.
“Amanda, are you all right?” Diane asked. “You’re so pale.”
“Huh? What?” she stammered. “Oh. No. Yes. I’m fine. Really.”
She looked at Diane and then looked away. Should I tell her about last night? About the fiddle music? No. She’s got enough on her mind. Besides, it was probably just some neighbor playing his stereo with the window open. Sound travels at night. It doesn’t mean anything bad. Does it? No, probably not. I’d just look silly. She only spoke about small drums, not fiddles.
“Maybe you should go down to Purdie’s tonight.”
“And miss the show? I don’t think so. I’ve come too far to turn back now. Besides, that thing killed my father. I have to see this through.”
Diane studied Amanda’s face a moment longer. “All right. Where’s Fred? We need to go over a few things before I set up for tonight. I’m going to be very busy soon so I only want to explain this one time.”
“I’ll get him,” Betty’s voice betrayed her interest.
“Get who?” Fred replied from the other doorway.
Amanda covered her smile with her hand. Betty’s naïveté gave her away; she was incapable of guile. Amanda felt sorry for the girl, for girl she was in romantic matters. Fred saw Betty as a child and no more. To him the age difference was a very real wall between them. Amanda still struggled to get Fred to see past the one between the two of them. When this was over she figured she would have to find a secluded place to trip him and beat him to the floor.
“You, silly,” Betty said in her best little girl voice. She slipped to his side and entwined her arm through his. “Diane has some things she wants t’ tell us ’bout t’night.”
“Is that so?” Fred disengaged the girl’s arm and walked behind Diane to the opposite side of the table. His discomfort showed clearly on his face, although only Amanda saw it as he faced away from the others. He slid the ladder-back chair away from the table, turned it around, and sat next to Amanda with his arms crossed over the back.
Betty looked at Fred and then at Amanda. For a moment her glance smoldered. Then, she regained control, smiled, and returned to her seat.
Hmm. Amanda thought. Maybe I’m underestimating her. Better not turn your back on that one, Amanda Sue Carlyle. No telling what might happen. A blad
e might be the least of your problems. It doesn’t really matter, though. Everything will be over tonight, one way or another, and we’ll be leaving tomorrow. Unless she’s a lot better at mountain magic or whatever it is she does back in that cabin of hers than she lets on, this will be nothing but a bad memory.
“What I’m telling you now is for all of our safety, but especially mine as I will be the one in the crosshairs both figuratively and literally. This thing has been through this before, so it won’t be as easy to trap him as it was when Grandfather Red Bear did it the first time.”
She paused. “Is there any coffee left? I need some caffeine.”
“What about your purification?” Amanda asked as she got up to go to the kitchen.
“Honey, I’m about as purified as I’m gonna get. Ain’t nothin’ gonna turn me into a Vestal Virgin. What I need now is some fire in my veins. I need rocket fuel.”
Amanda returned a moment later and set a steaming mug in front of her. “Do you need cream or sugar?”
“No, thanks. The sugar rush doesn’t last long enough to do me any good. This right here is exactly what I need.” She took a sip and made a face as the hot liquid burned her mouth.
“I’m sorry. I should have warned you…”
“Warned me what? That the coffee was hot? Don’t be silly. You can’t make coffee without heating up the water.” Diane took another sip, this time slower. “I never did understand that lawsuit. Coffee’s a hot liquid. Period. Unless they’re drinking it for the first time, any fool should know that coffee is hot.
“As I was saying,” Diane set the mug on the table and stared into the dark liquid. “I’ll be taking my things outside to make my final preparations. I have to make my medicine wheel. I need to set some other things up for tonight, too. It will take me a couple of hours of steady workin’ so I won’t be able to answer any questions. If you have any, ask them now.”
“Is everythin’ a secret, like th’ things Granny showed me?” Betty asked. “Or, can we watch what y’ do?”
“You can watch as long as you don’t talk or ask me any questions. I’ll be focusing all of my thoughts on what I’m doing. I don’t need the distraction. From this point on distractions could get us all killed. I’m not kidding. Do you all understand what I’m saying?”
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