by Rhodi Hawk
Avery shook his head. “Nothin good, man. The ambulance done come around here, picked up one of the customers.”
“So?”
“I heard a couple a others went to the hospital, too. They all bought their shit from us. The good shit.”
Carlo cursed. He knew all the regulars by name, but he didn’t ask Avery who had gotten sick.
Avery looked Carlo in the eye. “You get your stuff from the same dude you always do?”
Carlo grunted. He managed to keep Avery in the dark about who his suppliers were, and he was not about to make an exception now. It was true that Carlo had found another supplier who cut him a good deal, and from the sound of things, the guy must have cut the stuff with some kind of filler.
“We can’t sell that shit now. Word get out, ain’t nobody gonna buy from us. They’ll all go up the street.”
Carlo gave him a hard look. “Oh? Well I guess you willing to give up your cut, then?”
“We done a little business already.”
Carlo shook his head. “Ain’t enough. I still got a load of that shit up there!” He pointed a thumb toward the brick building behind him. “The hell I s’posed to do, just throw it out?”
Avery shoved his fists in his pockets.
Carlo put a hand on his shoulder. “Aight, we gonna make this one quick. Any good customers come along, you tell them to come back in a few days. You see any a the real messed up junkies, send’m down to me, we’ll make’m a real good deal. They probably won’t even know if they get sick.”
Avery nodded. “You gonna let’m get it on here?”
“Naw, make sure they stay in the empty buildings. Let’m ride it out where no one’s around. You get back up there and keep watch for Task Force. We’ll wrap it up quick.”
Avery strode across back to his stairwell and wound his way up to the top where he had a clear view of the streets.
SHEILA WALKED BACK AND forth, blessing passersby with her smile, but they were few and far between and no one stopped to talk. A police car approached and Bea and Sheila ducked into the liquor store until it passed.
Sheila could stand it no longer. “I’ll be back in a little while.”
Bea said, “Don’t be gettin no fix from Carlo. I heard two people already done got sick off a his junk.”
Sheila glanced back at Bea, but hurried down the street. She hoped Bea was wrong.
DADDY BLANK STRETCHED HIS legs into the night and heaved himself out of the car.
“Nah, I didn’t expect you’d want to come. God forbid you be seen out here.”
He patted the extended hand, and closed the car door. Raindrops shimmered on black paint as the car disappeared into the darkness.
He was damned. They were all damned, he and his children. And now they were facing off, and the only remaining solutions were grim.
Better stay away from Maddy for now. Too dangerous for him to be around her.
The more effective medication was not available at the hospital. A gentle dose of China White would wrap him in a warm, tingling euphoria that made even the most troublesome questions of life and death seem unimportant. He’d already had a fix or two from the street corner pharmacist, and the effect had long since dissipated.
“HEY, CARLO,” DADDY BLANK said. “You got a good horse for me?”
“Nah, but I can fix you up with something else. You want blow?”
Daddy Blank frowned.
“How bout some Viagra?” Carlo laughed.
“Son, why don’t you quit with the smart mouth and give me what I came for.”
Carlo shook his head. “You better come back in a few days. I’m outta stock.”
“Bullshit, you cretin. Why you giving me a hard time? Look.” He fished in his pockets and pulled out all he had. “Take it all.” He shoved the cash into Carlo’s hand. “There, now be a good boy and make a damned sale.”
Carlo tucked the money out of sight. He signaled for Avery to give Daddy Blank a double supply to match his double payment. The stuff was worthless anyway, and Daddy Blank was not really a true regular.
“Look, Daddy Blank, we almost out of supply and got some pissed-off customers.” Carlo gestured toward the empty building. “You be cool and take that shit in there where no one can see you.”
“Fine,” Daddy Blank said.
“Hey, Daddy B.” The two men turned and saw Sheila walking toward them.
“Hello there, Sheila, those are pretty shoes you got on,” Daddy Blank said as he walked away.
“You want some company?” she called after him.
He shook his head and disappeared.
Sheila continued toward Carlo, trailing her finger along the chain-link fence. “Daddy Blank said I look pretty.”
Carlo folded his arms. “He said your shoes was pretty. You find yourself a friend, like I told you?”
Sheila shook her head. “Ain’t nobody out tonight.” She leaned in close and continued trailing her finger from the chain-link up the expanse of Carlo’s arm. “I was thinking, maybe you could be my friend.”
Carlo looked her over. She was still pretty, though her lifestyle was taking its toll on her looks. Her features were turning hard, her mouth starting to pull back in a permanent clench. Nevertheless, still pretty.
Carlo took her by the elbow and steered her toward a battered railroad house a few doors down. His supply was worthless anyway.
“Tonight’s your lucky night.”
sixty-one
NEW ORLEANS, 2009
THE POLICE PULLED DADDY Blank’s body from an abandoned building in Iberville, a shadowed neighborhood between the French Quarter and the Garden District. A junkie was the one who’d called it in, but not until after he had had his own fix and was coming back down.
Madeleine’s father was not the only drug-related death that week. She learned that a rogue supply of China White had hit the streets, killing Daddy and a prostitute, and putting several others in the hospital. As she wandered through the industrial flat, Severin followed her from room to room, sometimes whining or playing, and sometimes speaking sinister words.
Madeleine steeled herself. She had to work out her father’s affairs, and knew that the act of putting things in order would help her maintain a little sanity, whatever that meant. She sat on the couch with the telephone, tears streaming, making the necessary calls to notify her father’s friends and begin arrangements for a funeral.
Jasmine dropped a little red rubber ball into Madeleine’s lap. Madeleine threw it and Jasmine fetched it, and they repeated this over and over again, and all the while Madeleine was talking on the telephone and trying to block out Severin’s chatter of how she brought on her father’s death because of her magnetism for bloodshed. It was like trying to listen to the radio and the television at the same time, but somehow the act of playing fetch with Jasmine helped Madeleine to focus.
When she hung up, she forced herself into the kitchen to make dinner. Though she was not the least bit hungry, she had to do something. It seemed that keeping active kept the bramble away.
She was cutting up some chicken, her hands glistening with its carcass, when the phone rang. She wiped her hands with a paper towel as she grappled for the phone. It was Sam, calling from her cell phone to tell her she was on her way. Apparently she had found out from Vinny. Madeleine told her that it wasn’t necessary to come over, that she would be fine, but Sam was having none of it.
“Is Ethan there with you?”
“No, he was in with a patient when I called.”
“You mean he doesn’t even know yet?”
“Not yet.”
Sam said, “You shouldn’t be alone right now. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Alone. If only.
Madeleine glanced at Severin, who was sitting in the corner of the kitchen, gouging the wood of a cabinet door with her fingernail. She sighed. Perhaps it would be a good distraction to have Sam over. She agreed and hung up.
Madeleine folded her arms and looked at Seve
rin, who had grown tired of scratching at the wood and was now sprawled out on the kitchen floor, lolling around like a typical bored child. A triangular gouge scarred the cabinet door where she had been clawing at it. Madeleine stared at it for a moment, then leaned over and fingered the mark.
The surface was smooth, and the image of the gouge disappeared even as Madeleine moved her finger across it. She admonished herself for having fallen for the illusion.
Suddenly, Severin leapt up and dug her fingernails into Madeleine’s leg. Madeleine jumped back in a flash of pain. But in doing so, she inadvertently knocked the knife off the cutting board. The blade tumbled to the ground and she managed to sidestep it just before it would have skewered her foot. It bounced off the hard tile floor and back up again, where its tip sliced into the cabinet door.
Severin threw herself backward on the floor, giggling with delight. “Lovely, lovely!”
Madeleine smoldered. The mark in the cabinet was no longer an illusion. She saw the same little triangular gouge, exactly as Severin had formed it with her fingernail, only this time it really existed.
Madeleine stared at her. “Why would you do something like that?”
Severin stopped laughing and looked up, then began to wail.
“Oh, quiet down,” Madeleine muttered.
The child’s voice rose an octave, reverberating throughout the flat. Madeleine pressed the palm of her hand to her forehead. My God, how am I supposed to function with this? She wrung her hands and glanced at the door, knowing Sam would be coming over any minute.
“Stop it, Severin.” Madeleine tried to keep her voice calm.
But the tantrum only escalated, and the wailing transformed into piercing shrieks. Severin threw herself back on the floor so that her skull bounced against the tile, and began kicking at the cabinets. She beat at them with her bare, filthy feet, kicking so hard that Madeleine’s teeth chattered, and she squeezed her hands over her ears.
From the couch in the living room, Jasmine raised her head and looked over toward Madeleine. Severin continued pounding with her feet. Jasmine woofed. Could Jasmine hear Severin on some level? Madeleine thought suddenly. Jasmine woofed louder and leapt off the couch, trotting toward the door.
It’s not the door, Jazz. It’s in here. In the kitchen with me. Please hear it. Please see it.
Severin’s shrieking and kicking intensified. “Stop talking to that dog! I’ll send it through! I’ll kill that dog the same way I scratched the cupboard! And I’ll kill all your friends! I’ll whisper them dead! Just like your brother! Just like your daddy! I’ll send them through to the other side!”
Madeleine’s throat clenched. Was it possible Severin had something to do with their deaths? Her fear tumbled backward and flipped into rage, so pure that it striped her vision in black and white.
“Oh no you won’t,” Madeleine said through clenched teeth. “If I find out you had anything to do with my father or my brother’s death, I’ll kill you!”
And then, somehow, Madeleine was the one screaming. “I’ll kill you. I’ll find a way, you disgusting little fiend, and I’ll kill you!”
She drowned out the demon girl’s shrieks with her own rage, her throat going raw, thorny branches snaking in around her.
Madeleine stopped, panting. Something behind the black tendrils caught her eye. As she stood over Severin, she saw a flicker of movement in the window. Her head snapped toward it, and she saw her own reflection. Behind it, another face. The pale face of a woman. Oh, please, no. Madeleine thought. Not another one like Severin. I can’t take this. It happened because she had lost her temper, she reasoned frantically. Her anger brought on another apparition. She had to calm herself.
But when Madeleine spun around, wheeling wild-eyed at the figure, the sight of it caused her to freeze. She recognized it. No, she knew her. And she was not an apparition. She was Samantha.
“Maddy?” Sam’s face was deathly pale, and she had Jasmine tucked under her arm.
Severin rose to a sitting position, grinning.
Madeleine stared at Sam with wariness, not able to trust what she was seeing. She took a shaky step toward her and reached out a trembling hand to touch her shoulder. Madeleine’s fingertips met the fabric of Sam’s shirt and the warmth of her skin beneath. No illusion; Sam was indeed standing there. Madeleine felt a rush of relief, but she retreated a few steps and folded her arms, looking at the floor, turning away from Sam’s bewildered gaze.
“Maddy, are you all right? Didn’t you hear me knocking?” Sam set Jasmine down on the floor and Jazz padded back to the living room couch.
Madeleine thought of Severin’s feet beating against the cabinets. The sound would have drowned out Sam’s knocking. Deliberately? A tear rolled down her face.
“I heard screaming, so I came in.” Samantha’s voice began to waver. “Maddy, who were you yelling at? I saw . . .” she trailed off. The room filled with silence.
Severin tittered.
Madeleine wrapped her arms around herself and turned nervously away from Sam, unable to look at her.
“Maddy,” Samantha whispered. “It’s me, Sam.”
“I know who you are,” Madeleine sputtered.
She stood regulating her breathing, struggling to regain composure. She racked her mind for some kind of explanation, some lie that she could offer up to Sam to deflect her from the truth of what was happening, so she would stop looking at her that way. But no such explanation existed.
Finally, Madeleine just began to speak.
“There is a person. An entity. An evil little . . .” Her words tumbled out in a halting staccato. Her throat stung from screaming. She took two more deep, slow breaths, and began to speak again, this time with complete calm and control.
“I don’t know what she is, really,” Madeleine said matter-of-factly, keeping her eyes on the floor. “I think of her as a kind of spirit or an imp. Maybe even some sort of curse. She has come to me in the form of a little girl, and she speaks to me and sometimes acts out.”
Madeleine took on the tone of a schoolteacher, and was gaining confidence. “She has a negative quality about her, and she may even be dangerous. I have reason to believe that a similar such entity had visited my brother, and possibly even my father. But the bottom line is, I’m not crazy.”
Those last words hung limp in the air, and Madeleine realized that she had somehow faltered. I’m not crazy. It sounded so very, very feeble. She made the mistake of stealing a glance at Sam, whose face was ashen.
“She reveals things to me.” Madeleine’s words poured out faster and with a higher pitch. “I sort of learn about things before they actually happen. Or she’ll show me something that happened to someone else, like Marc, and I know what happened. Even though I wouldn’t ordinarily know . . . what happened.”
My God, I sound so crazy!
“All right.” Madeleine forced herself to slow down. “Perhaps there have been symptoms that could possibly indicate the beginning stages of schizophrenia. A touch of confusion, difficulty in concentration. The good news is, I’m quite confident I can control that.” She waved her hand dismissively. “What you should know is that this entity has made me privy to some special information.”
Oh, for the love of God! Madeleine heard her own words, and she was sounding crazier and crazier with every breath.
Samantha’s eyes glistened with tears, and the sight made Madeleine’s stomach turn. Sam obviously was not going for it. Madeleine was losing her.
Madeleine whirled on Severin, who sat hugging her stained legs to her naked body.
“Give me something! Tell me something about Samantha.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t think to do that. You never do what I say. Let her suppose you’re crazy. It amuses.”
Madeleine moaned with frustration, pulling at her hair. She grabbed a knife from the wooden block on the counter, wishing for a way she could plunge the thing into the demon child’s black, shriveled heart.
“Is this
what you want?” Madeleine raged at her. “Is this what you crave? Blood?”
She drew the blade down the center of her hand and let the blood run to the floor.
Sam screamed.
Severin giggled.
“Is that what turns you on, Severin? Give me something, damn it!”
“Maddy stop! Please!” Sam cried, moving toward her with her arms outstretched.
“Stay away,” Madeleine pleaded, waving her off, and Sam recoiled. Madeleine realized it must have looked like she was threatening her with the knife.
She turned back to Severin. “Please, Severin. Please. Just help me.”
Severin’s face was pinched into a nasty little pout. Finally, she said, “Her first pet then, see. The first pet she had when she was a little girl. It was a kitten.”
Her first pet was a kitten. So what? “Come on, Severin. Give me something better than that.”
The child scowled, but remained silent.
Samantha watched fearfully with her fingers pressed to her mouth and sparkles of moisture dotting her lashes. Madeleine’s blood throbbed at her temples. Severin was toying with her, and she knew Sam thought she had completely escaped her senses.
“You had a kitten,” she finally said, resigned. “Your first pet when you were a child was a kitten.”
Sam did not move, but her tears brimmed over and spilled down her cheeks.
“Well?” Madeleine’s voice rose. “Am I right?”
With her fingers still covering her mouth, Sam slowly shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “No, honey. My first pet was a dog. A puppy, when I was about ten years old.” She reached out to her. “Maddy . . .”
The blood boiled in Madeleine’s head. She wheeled on Severin, who was laughing.
“Ha, ha, ha! Maddy is a daft old frog!”
“Damn you!” Madeleine shrieked. “You evil little beast! Damn you to hell!”
She sank to her knees, her entire body quaking with rage.
Sam was immediately at Madeleine’s side, arms encircling her and tears streaming. “It’s OK. Maddy, it’s OK. It’s all right. It doesn’t matter.”