Dirt Lullabies

by Jeremy Megargee

  And there was a smidgen of truth to what I said. It was a situation where if I scratch a back then my back is scratched in return. The only detail I neglected to tell them was that it was M’s back that I was scratching…and his unseen claws were scratching mine.

  This was the time of year set aside for counting your blessings and being thankful for all the positive things in your life. I was thankful this year.

  I was thankful for M.

  I even flirted with the idea of taking a plateful of turkey out to M and dropping it down into his hole after supper. Best not, though. Seemed kinda like throwing scraps to a dog. M might be offended…

  I raised my fork and knife and smiled at my folks, my attention returning to the plate full of hot, delicious food sitting in front of me. I smiled wide, unmindful of the little pieces of turkey gristle stuck in my teeth.

  “Let’s eat.”

  Chapter 22

  Roman

  The dishes were washed and the table cleared, the folks sitting down in front of the television and relaxing a bit. I was finishing up placing some leftovers into the fridge when I got the idea to give those stray kittens outside a few pieces of turkey too. They were mostly feral except for one little guy who was tame compared to the others. He’d let himself be petted and mom had taken a shine to him, even got a cute little black collar for him with a bell on it.

  Whenever I’d open the side door for something I’d hear that bell jingling as he ran over to greet me. That’s how he earned the name Mr. Jingle.

  I fixed him a little Thanksgiving dinner to share with his brothers and sisters, putting a few of the tastier morsels into a Rubbermaid container. I shrugged one of my heavier coats on and headed out through the side door, the little porch light casting a weak bit of illumination over the gathered shadows. It was only a little after 5pm but darkness came early this time of year in Rust Valley. The daylight never lasted long in the winter months so those precious hours had to be savored.

  The door slammed shut behind me without any effort on my part; the wind took care of it for me. I headed in the direction of that tattered old upside down couch near the side of the house. The litter of kittens usually took shelter under there. Usually they’d catch the scent of food and come running immediately…but strangely enough the area around the couch was silent.

  I knelt down and called out, even proceeded to toss a few chunks of turkey meat on the ground near the couch. No kittens greeted me. There were no jingling bells and no expectant meows. The only sound was the wind, hollow and wispy.

  I pushed back up to my feet and started to walk around, wondering if the kittens had relocated to some new little lair near the house. I tromped through the bushes and found myself nearing the entrance to the root cellar. The ground here was always mucky and wet…and I immediately noticed little paw prints in the mud leading towards the root cellar’s door.

  It was open just a crack…enough for a tiny furry body to enter through the threshold. There was a nasty feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw those paw prints. It was like anxious hands clenching and unclenching in the fibers of my gut. I didn’t know if I wanted to open that door just now. I didn’t know if I’d like what I found…

  Nevertheless I found myself passing through the door and into M’s territory. It was very dark in here now and almost no moonlight passed through the cracks in the walls. I had to squint and stumble before my sight finally adjusted a bit to the blackness. I could usually feel it when M was aware of my presence. It was a bizarre, indescribable sensation that would settle into my bones.

  I wasn’t experiencing that sensation now. I got the distinct vibe that M might be sleeping somewhere below, just as he was when I first discovered him.

  I neared the crack in the earth, the one I’d widened considerably with nothing but a single shovel and my own manpower. The tiniest glimmers of moonlight managed to pierce through the rotten wood of the walls.

  It was weak, paltry light…but it was enough.

  It showed me things that I didn’t want to see.

  It showed me little tufts of cat hair close to the crack in the dirt.

  It shined on Mr. Jingle’s collar snagged on a piece of root on the side of the descending pit.

  And further down, as far as my vision could reach…it showed me the worst thing of all. A tiny little rope of intestine plastered across the earthen wall and marinating in a smear of fresh cat blood.

  A trembling hand rose to cover my mouth and I was already starting to stagger back up to my feet. I started backing up slowly to the door, tiptoeing to keep M ignorant of my presence. I didn’t want to awaken him. Not now…not after seeing this.

  All I wanted right at this moment was to get the hell out of this root cellar and empty the contents of my stomach into the bushes outside.

  I stumbled and staggered and clawed the door open.

  I fell to my hands and knees in the mud, my gorge rising, my throat working. I started to retch, the slimy bile beginning to gurgle forth from deep within. A stream of turkey and stuffing flavored vomit belched forth out of my lips and splattered across the undergrowth surrounding M’s front door.

  I stared down at the pool of my own puke for a few seconds, disgusted by the sight of everything I’d eaten today. Simply the concept of eating disgusted me right now. It was all too much to bear. It only served to remind me…

  M had celebrated Thanksgiving with a feast of his own.

  Chapter 23

  Roman

  I needed time to think. I did my best thinking while driving, and that’s why I now found myself cruising along deserted back roads with the headlights cutting through the darkness ahead of me. One hand loosely gripped the steering wheel; the other was busy massaging my temple. My stomach still felt weak and knotted. I was having a hard time formulating coherent thoughts, my mind inevitably circling back to that image of Mr. Jingle’s blood-stained collar.

  I’d aligned myself with something that I did not understand. I was working with a thing that devoured kittens. I let that sink in for a moment. It made me feel like an extremely shitty human being. I’d been afraid of M, I’d been curious about M…but this was the first time I’d actually considered M evil.

  Anything that would mutilate something so innocent had to be evil. The torn entrails, the ripped out fur…that trusting little cat shredded into bite-size pieces.

  The moment M asked me to flick some of my blood down to him should have tipped me off. I should have realized then that whatever this thing was, it had an appetite. It apparently had a stomach to digest with and a body to contain that stomach. I’d ruled out that M was any kind of ghost now…just didn’t seem to make sense.

  I was no closer to figuring out what M was or what M’s motives were. Every question just leads me to more questions. All I knew for sure was that M wanted out of that dirt. He’d been trapped in that underground prison for who knows how long and he needed my help to crawl his way up to the surface.

  Was I willing to continue helping him? Did I even have the vaguest concept of what I might be unleashing upon the world?

  I didn’t. I needed answers. I needed to dig down to the truth before I dug down any deeper into that root cellar soil. Right now all I had on my hands was the blood of a little animal, but if I kept on this current course, I might find my hands soaked and stained forever.

  I like to think I’m a good man. I like to think that my intentions are good. All I want is a better life for me and mine. But I’m not willing to sacrifice lives, big or small, to obtain that better life. Just like my mom said…it’s not worth losing yourself down that dark road. If you lose your way on that kind of road there’s a damn good chance you may never find your way back again.

  I needed to confront M.

  I had to gather my courage and force every scrap of willpower I had to spare into my heart, and I had to march into that root cellar and take a stand.

  It might lead to the end of our “mutually beneficial relationship”
but there was something more important to me than all the gold and precious gifts M could unearth.

  Something I could not let be shattered and forever ruined by my own poor choices. I had to keep it intact by any means necessary…

  I had to keep my soul intact.

  Chapter 24

  Roman

  I waited until after midnight before I drove back home. I waited until dad had gone off to work the night shift. I waited until mom was fast asleep, her medication usually causing her to sleep like the dead. I drove back fast down the dirt lane, dust pluming out behind the wheels. Poe’s “Haunted” blasted out of the radio.

  My jaw was clenched, my hands gripping tightly to the wheel. I wasn’t afraid of what I had to do. I was angry. There was lead in my belly and fire in my eyes and I wanted nothing more than to stomp my way into that root cellar and scream down into M’s hole until my lungs couldn’t pull anymore air into them. Maybe it was silly to be so pissed off about the death of a little stray kitten. Maybe this whole situation was driving me crazy. I was angry at myself most of all for trusting in something that was perhaps beyond the scope of my understanding.

  I was blinded by a rage that seemed to just swell up in me out of absolutely nowhere. I tore the wheel to the side and slammed the car into park, not even bothering to close the door or shut off the headlights. I stormed out of the Buick and marched across the yard. My boots crunched across wet grass, deep indentations left in the ground with each step that I took.

  I was vaguely aware that my fists were clenched at my sides as I walked. The fingernails were biting into my flesh and I didn’t care. I liked the pain at that moment. Something was happening here. I felt…a pull. I tried to clear my head and think about this rationally, but my mind seemed full of blistering red snakes that kept coiling around each other over and over again. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t strategize.

  I reached the door and I tore it open, the hinges creaking in protest. I sauntered in and opened my mouth to roar out M’s name…but I stopped with my lips just beginning to open.

  All the candles had been replaced around the hole in the soil, a rudimentary circle surrounding it and casting long shadows across the walls. That sour stench wafted up from the pit, making my nostrils wrinkle. I was grinding my teeth like an animal. I never grinded my teeth. What the hell was wrong with me?

  M’s voice greeted me immediately, strong and expectant.

  “Right on time.”

  He was waiting. He knew I’d be coming. This visit seemed almost…preplanned.

  “Rage. It’s the purest of human emotions. It’s a cloud where all clarity is lost, but so much can be accomplished while in the grip of that cloud. Do you feel it, Roman? Are you swimming through the red…letting it overtake you?”

  My nostrils flared. I was feeling it alright.

  “What are you, M? No more games…” I asked, my voice a low growl in the back of my throat.

  Laughter. The melody of M’s merriment traveled through the cellar and echoed from the cavernous confines below.

  “Why the cat? You wanted me to find that, didn’t you?” I pressed, unwilling to be rebuked so quickly.

  “Surely you don’t mourn for that little creature, do you? A heart the size of a pebble and a life force that accounts to nothing. Not even a snack for me, Roman. Barely a crumb…”

  The candle flames flicker, my shadow stretching out across the walls and seeming to pulsate right along with my heavy breathing.

  “Consider it a reminder, child of flesh and sinew. Our deal will lead to bloodshed. There must be sacrifices along the way. My generosity has a price. Everything in this world and below this world has a price. Sometimes it will be nothing more than a crumb, as I’ve displayed for you…”

  My anger was fading, replaced by a feeling of numbness.

  “Other times it will be more. I am very old and very hungry; Roman…starved for centuries and forced to wallow with worms. I will walk your world again. This is a serious matter for a serious servant and there is no room for disobedience along the way.”

  That word hit me hard. M had called me his servant. The entire tone of this speech was taking a very sinister turn…

  “You will dig and sometimes I will ask you to do more. Are you ready for the more, Roman? That is the point of all of this…the little kitty a small example of the more. You must break through the walls of your comfort zone for me…and the rewards you receive for that will be limitless.”

  “What do you mean by more?” The question felt dangerous the moment it escaped my lips.

  I stared down into the gaping pit, the chasm seeming almost to mock me with silence and everlasting darkness.

  “Tomorrow after sunset, you dig. The hole needs to be wider for what I need. For what I crave. My belly grumbles from the deep, child of flesh and sinew. I crave. First you dig…then we will arrive at the more.”

  I scrubbed a hand across my mouth, my lips feeling dry. I felt hollowed out by this conversation, left weak and submissive. I’d entered here a furious beast and I’d been reduced to a weak, helpless little thing. Much like a kitten…

  “Do my work, Roman. The hands of mankind are made to do my work…”

  M’s voice didn’t sound so silky now. It sounded like it was coming from horrible grinding machinery, like endless rows of teeth chattering and snapping against each other.

  “But remember that you are not the first to weave my work. And if you cross me…”

  There were scratching sounds from the deep. The earth vibrated as something sharp and ungodly sank into the walls of dirt far beneath my feet.

  “You will not be the last.”

  There was nothing more after this. Those threatening words sank in and I felt as though all the strength was about to go out of my legs. Dominance had been established on this night. I had been reminded of my place in M’s machinations.

  I turned to leave, defeated. My shoulders slumped as I exited the cellar.

  The last sound I heard as I left was the tinkling of Mr. Jingle’s bell somewhere in the bowels of the earth.

  Chapter 25

  Roman

  I spent the following day in a haze. My folks attempted to communicate with me but soon they gave up after I just kept feeding them one word answers. I spent most of the morning and afternoon in bed, staring at the TV but not really paying attention to any of the monotonous images flashing across it.

  I was demoralized. Nothing mattered. I was acutely aware of the passage of time. The hours and the minutes ticked away and each tick of the clock was like a steel fork stabbing down into my nerves. I was waiting for sundown.

  I wanted nothing more than to crawl beneath the blankets on my bed and sleep for a month. Maybe then this nightmare I’d become embroiled in would end and I’d wake up refreshed and free of M’s influence.

  A lovely fantasy, but that’s all it was…just a fantasy.

  Evening had transformed into twilight. The purgatory of my waiting had ended.

  I showered quickly, the hot water blasting across my face and running down the musculature of my chest. I stayed beneath the water for far too long in an attempt to put off the inevitable. By the time I dried off and stared at myself in the mirror my skin was beet red, my eyes staring out from dark hollows.

  No more stalling.

  It was time for my night work to begin.

  Chapter 26

  Roman

  I was digging. The cords stood out on my neck and the sweat glistened along my torso. I’d stripped off my coat and the t-shirt beneath, my bare skin shiny with the perspiration of my labor. I should have been freezing down here, but I wasn’t. I felt like I was in a boiler room. The heat seemed to bake up from beneath and hit me in waves.

  M had said only one word when I arrived here. No greeting, no conversation. Only a command from under the soil…driven into my skull like a railroad spike being pounded in with a sledgehammer. It repeated itself periodically in the center of my brain, becoming much li
ke a chant.

  “Dig.”

  And so I was digging. M was humming from the depths of the earth, the melody seeming strangely sweet, but underlying that sweetness was a monotonous buzzing sound like legions of flies hatching and taking flight.

  My muscles ached and my head was pounding but still I fought to gain more ground. The dirt was my enemy and I was hacking at it with the blade of the shovel, sending mounds of it flying out over my shoulder into one corner of the root cellar. Occasionally the shovel blade would sever through the segmented length of an earthworm. I’d watch it writhe for a moment, vivisected and ruined, before continuing to dig. M would giggle each time I sliced through a worm.