“That’s it! That’s the Bridge Keeper. I feel it,” said Francis. The sounds ahead confirmed that the Bridge Keeper was not of the human variety.
The fog became thicker. The rumble crept closer. They nervously followed the groans, holding one another tightly so as not to get separated. Their closeness eventually muddled their legs, sending Helena to the ground. The radiant orbs rolled in all directions, spilling light into the darkness and illuminating fallen trees, boulders, a cliff side, and the wooden post of the bridge. Helena ran ahead to scoop up the fruits before they could escape off the side. Just before one was lost to the drop, a giant, slimy tongue appeared and snatched it up.
“You have brought payment for my bridge,” said the Bridge Keeper, chewing on the shining fruit. Helena raised her basket of the remaining fruit. She met a giant, cloaked figure that seemed to be of both land and sea. It had crawled out of the water and up the slope to meet them. “Throw another to me,” it demanded.
Helena did. The little fruit lit up the sky before the Keeper’s long tongue grabbed it, mid-air. It chewed sloppily and then opened its gaping mouth. The pulp coated the orifice, vividly displaying inhuman teeth and an oozing tongue. The light produced cascaded over them so that the Keeper could assess them before crossing.
“You are not all dead,” it growled. “What makes you think I will grant you passage to the other side?”
Francis spoke up, “I am the only one making the full journey. These are my companions. They wish to take me as far as possible to bid me farewell.” He looked at the Queen. “And attend to some business.”
“This is sacred land, soul. It is contrary to the Way of Things for live ones to know of this place, let alone visit it.”
“But we have already traveled very far and met with the witch in the woods. We’ve brought more than enough fruits to satisfy you, have we not?”
It thought for a moment and licked its lips. “Indeed, soul, you have. For that I will grant you all passage. Just know it is not for me to decide whether you make it across the bridge or not. It makes the decisions. Look upon the water below.” The Keeper opened its mouth towards the river, revealing a filthy substance that looked more like the contents of a million chamber pots than water. “The water is tainted with the sins that souls must expel in order to go across. When you reach the middle of the bridge, you must confess all of your offenses, all of your secrets and regrets. The delights of the other side are reserved strictly for souls who have freed themselves of the grime acquired during their human lives. Only those with a clear conscience and a good heart may pass. Now, who will be first?” The Keeper moved aside and extended an appendage resembling an arm, inviting them to proceed.
Francis stepped forward. He left them with a reassuring smile before setting foot onto the bridge. The others barely moved an eyelash as he disappeared into the fog. They could hear the bridge creak as he made his was across, then how silently it stood as he stopped in the middle. It didn’t take Francis long to clear his conscious. He was a good man. They listened as he steadily made his way to the other side. There was no buckling, no splash.
“I made it!” he yelled from a not-too-distant shore. “Just do what the Keeper said and all will be fine!”
Helena was next. She predictably made it across without a problem, not having experienced enough to be guilty of anything. The Queen and Garth looked at one another. “You go first,” she said.
“No. I want to make sure you get over safely,” he said.
“And what if I don’t?”
“Don’t be silly. Helena made it across. You will, too.” Garth stared awkwardly at her, knowing why she was afraid. “What happened at the palace was bad, yes. But we did what we had to do. Just tell the water.”
“Garth, that’s not—”
“And if that bridge throws you over…well, let’s just say that it hasn’t seen the likes of me,” he said, only half-joking. He’d already been a worthy opponent of the Way of Things and was no longer afraid of it.
“You can’t always be a hero. Remember what I told you? Sometimes bad things need to happen.”
“What are you talking about? You’re enchanted, just like Helena. You have nothing more to be guilty of than what we did together.”
“You don’t know me, Garth.”
“Tell the water about the twins and the King. The Horse let you go, you’ve already passed the test. Just confess to it. You know what you did was for good.” There was a slight growl in his voice from irritation. Her stubbornness was finally wearing on him.
Her mouth began to say a million things before settling on, “I’m sorry.” Her last glance before becoming engulfed in the fog was filled with pain. As soon as her eyes pulled away from his, she ran towards the bridge’s center. Each step of her heavy body met the wooden planks with unnecessary force. Garth grew nervous as he heard her barrel ahead without stopping.
“Don’t forget to stop,” he called. The footsteps continued. “You must slow down.”
Francis and Helena heard her too. From the other side, Garth heard their pleas. “You have to stop! Don’t come any further!”
Garth’s heart flew into his throat. She wasn’t planning on stopping. She wanted to fall. He yelled out for her but a great crackle devoured his screams. An oily splash was the last they heard of the Queen.
“That one didn’t even try! She must have had too many demons to even bother!” guffawed the Keeper.
“She’s enchanted! She has no demons! There’s no soul in her to go anywhere!” screamed Garth. “Where is she?”
“The Underworld. The Dark Place. It has many names, human.”
Garth ran onto the bridge. As soon as he reached the center, he hurled himself over the side, into the thick, dark water below.
*
All I could do was wait: wait for DNA results, wait to go back to my apartment, wait for my symptoms to go away, wait for Robbie to speak to me again. We were broken up, even though we were never really together to begin with. It was a shame, too. If I was leading a normal life and he wasn’t so crazy, I think we’d have worked out. Bad timing, I suppose.
A friend told me he had seen them out together. I figured that would happen. It’s always easier to make a decision when there’s no choice to be made. Nick won a game against nobody but himself. Hardly a triumph. I imagined them pretending to be happy for a month or two, until they realized that their relationship consisted of nothing but a few laughs and decent sex. Face-to-face, they’d try and stay strong. Behind each other’s backs, they’d patrol the Internet for future flings and hang out with friends whose friends were fuckable. Soon, resentment and the poison of their lies would bubble to the surface and explode in their faces. They’d be miserable after the breakup. Even the rewards of singledom, like reentering the dating game and one night stands, would feel routine and unexciting, for they’d exhausted those activities while together. Those thoughts made me feel better. They made me feel human.
The days began to grow longer and Central Park’s lawns and meadows called to me. Unfortunately the sun was still too much for my almost translucent skin. Just minutes of exposure would have me running for cover. My appetite dwindled to cravings for nothing more than a single block of the food pyramid. I ordered steaks rare. If the chef overcooked, I just sucked out the juices or carved out the little bits of pink. My cravings weren’t specific to humans or even blood, just primitive yearnings for a fresh kill. Anything else wouldn’t digest. I was a raw foodist of sorts. Thankfully, my high-protein diet was easy to disguise in New York. With all the muscle-hungry gays and extreme diet trends, I just looked like an Atkins follower with pale skin.
“You’re a ball of energy tonight,” Garth said to me.
“I’ve adopted your schedule. Since I can’t do the sun thing, I sleep. I’m even considering a bartending gig,” I said.
“I’m surprised that you’re still suffering.”
“You’re surprised? Me too.” I chomped on a piece of bee
f jerky and pretended to like it. I began to swallow but that didn’t work out. Too cooked. “Do you think we could talk to Rita? Maybe she knows how long this will last.”
“I think it’s different for everyone. Depends on your immune system…dosage.”
“If you’re trying to get the dirty details about Bryant, forget about it.” A smile crept across my face as I said his name.
“But it looks to me like it was a pleasant experience. Why don’t you ask him?” I could have but the situation was awkward. I didn’t have his number…I couldn’t show up uninvited for fear of death…He kicked me out…
“Messy details.” We sat on a roof overlooking the East River, searching for something else to say. “I think our trail is dead. I gave a DNA sample. Haven’t heard anything.”
“That’s good. One problem solved.”
Some asshole walked down the street rapping too loudly for the middle of the night. “Hey buddy, keep it down! This isn’t Madison Square Garden! It’s a residential street!” I yelled down. Did I mention that I’d had a confidence boost?
“Shut up, you faggot!” he hollered back, arms flailing in his oversized clothes, in an attempt to look larger than life.
“What’d you say? I’ll come down there and rip your goddamned face off, you dizzy twat!” I hissed back. My eyes burned hot and my teeth bore like a wolf. The rapper repented and then ran in the other direction. I was proud and embarrassed and sick to my stomach.
“I see your vocabulary has improved along with your temper,” Garth said snidely. “Maybe you’ll be alright after all.”
“Garth, who is trying to kill me?”
His head darted back towards the water. The lights of Astoria twinkled on the river. “We don’t know yet,” he whispered. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze bobbed from me, to the river, back to me. “I’m sorry, Jeremy. I should have left you alone. After New Year’s, I should have just brought you to safety and let you live your life.”
“Why would you say that? You’ve saved my life more than once. I’d be dead without you.”
“There shouldn’t have been a more than once. Everything that’s happened since then has been the result of our friendship. I can’t help but believe that I’ve exposed you to a menace without even knowing it.”
Another spark of anger began to ignite within me. Maybe not anger. Frustration? Either way, I felt a fury coming on. A new chemistry flowed through my veins that made me feel like I could take down a buffalo if necessary. I began to lunge for him but stopped myself. My wretched hand hung in the air, then retreated back to my lap. What would I have possibly done to a gargoyle? “I need to know what’s going on,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Nothing is certain. Remember how I told you about that conversation with the Queen? Events in our lives, our experiences, all happen for a reason. That is the Way of Things. The world is working something out, and you, unfortunately, are getting the brunt if it. Until we know for sure what or who is involved, we can’t do anything. There’s no use speculating. It’ll only make you paranoid.”
“I’m already the most paranoid person I know! Tell me what you know!”
“It is a feeling, that is all. Like touching trees and knowing which one has a soul. The same intuition has been drawing me to you. It is unexplainable.”
“So I just have to wait? I have to stay indoors and eat sashimi and wait for someone to tell me what’s going on, providing this ‘menace’ doesn’t kill me before then?” I stomped around and pulled my hair like a three-year-old having a temper tantrum. “How did you finish off the King? Did he go to the Underworld like you planned? Is he the one torturing me?”
“That is not it. He is of no concern.”
“He killed his son. He killed Francis and your mother and your sister.”
“Jeremy, please.”
“Well, did the Queen’s plan work? Where is she? Why are you still a gargoyle, Garth? What happened? If we are being haunted by something from your past, tell me. Tell me!”
“Sometimes life doesn’t work out the way you have planned!” he exploded. “I wanted to be a farmer with a family and be hundreds of years dead by now. Look at me. Look at you. I doubt you wanted to be the thing you are tonight. We are nothing like our ideals. Sometimes our failures are too painful to face. And sometimes our failures are not entirely our fault. Until someone can help us, we wait. Neither of us needs to be more desperate than we already are.”
*
The initial splash through the surface of the water was shocking. Perhaps it was because Garth hadn’t been submerged in ages. Maybe it was because the water wasn’t really water. Whatever substance it was, he sank quickly. Eventually he couldn’t hold his breath any longer and had to accept the grimy fluid into his lungs. He became heavier and sank faster. The speed began to rob him of consciousness…
Why did you follow her?
I’m a good person.
Good people feed the hungry. They don’t do things like this.
We’d come too far to abandon her.
Sacrifices must be made.
No. That doesn’t make sense.
She made you feel alive. That’s why you follow.
But I am alive. I’m human.
When you weren’t. She made you feel—
Stop. I know what she made me feel. There was something missing. She helped.
Now you’ve lost that something.
No. I’m going after her.
She will be glad.
Will she?
You’ve thrown it all away. You’re both doomed. She will be mad for that.
Will she?
And she will be glad.
Am I dying?
Does it matter?
I don’t want to die.
I think you do.
12. In the Company of Souls
Meg and I were relocated to another apartment a few blocks north because the old one was still uninhabitable. Slowly we tried to get our lives back on track. I had all of my old furniture back in a room of my very own but I couldn’t bring myself to sleep there. Even with Garth probably lurking nearby, my brain refused to let go of the heebie jeebies that made themselves present when the lights went out.
Instead, I situated myself on the living room couch near a window without a fire escape. The TV constantly blared to keep me company. TV Land’s line up of everyone’s favorite shows was a non-threatening companion. Even programs that creeped me out as a kid, like The Adams Family and Tales from the Crypt, were tame compared to the chaos inside my head.
Several hours later, I awoke in complete darkness. The TV wasn’t running up my electricity bill, the streetlights were extinguished and the hall light failed to annoyingly seep in through the cracks around the front door. I’d been dragged to an unfamiliar dream realm. This place was not a version of my life, like dreams past. There was no bedroom with a murderous laundry pile, no burning Union Square. It was just an ominous, cavernous blackness. It made me feel small and exposed, like being trapped in outer space without a suit or ship nearby to cling to. The lack of everything would pull me apart. I’d explode. I hyperventilated at the thought. My breath echoed through the expanse and returned to me as a revving engine. It came at me at one hundred miles an hour, forcing me to duck into a ball to get out of its path.
I searched for a distinguishing anything; furniture, a rock, a hole, a pillar or a wall but felt nothing except the flat, wet ground.
Frustration mounted, setting me off crawling in one direction, hoping to slam into something to give me my bearings. The nothingness was endless. I choked on sobs, which wailed through the cave with one million times more intensity than upon leaving my mouth. I tried to scream for help but only a whisper came out for fear of hearing how the new world would morph my speech. Silence and I sat together for an undetermined amount of time until I worked up the courage to finally mutter, “Hello?”
Before the ugliness of echoes reached me I heard another voice answer, “Hello!” It was
a voice I’d know anywhere. It was Garth’s.
“Garth, where are you?”
“I can’t tell. The echo is…the echo is…the echo is…”
Our voices flew around the cave in place of bats.
“…where are you…where are you…”
“…the echo…echo…”
Aggravation threw my fists to the floor. They landed in a puddle that splashed my face with lukewarm water.
“Garth, there’s water on the ground.” I waited several beats until my echoes disappeared to continue. “Splash the water into the air. I’ll walk around until I feel it on me.”
I removed my shirt to expose as much skin as possible to the droplets. My walk through the cavern was delicate. I didn’t want to splash water onto myself by accident.
It didn’t take long to feel him. I flinched the moment that I felt the splash first land on my cheekbone. “I feel you! Keep splashing!” I screamed. My arms extended for him, fingertips ticking the air as I thought about touching his rough stone arms. Instead, my hand caught something else. It was warm and soft.
“Garth?”
“Yes.”
I latched on to what I thought was an elbow and worked my way to fingertips. I engulfed his hand—palm-to-palm, fingers entwined. He gasped.
“It’s me. It’s okay,” I said. “Are you…human again?”
“Yes, silly. It was the tree,” he replied before pulling me into his mortal arms. His nose pressed into my neck and then proceeded to my temple. His lips brushed my cheek until they met mine. My hands grasped his face and searched for features. I found eyes, a nose, and a mouth. All were in their right places and all were human.
In Stone: A Grotesque Faerie Tale Page 17