“So, whose baby is this?” I asked. The red-haired girl behind the counter had been warming up a bottle of formula for him, and brought it over.
“We don’t know,” said Tyler. “Jazz rescued him from a massive auto wreck. His mom—well, his mom didn’t survive it, so far as Jazz knows.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Peter,” said Tyler. “Don’t try to call him Petey, though. It makes him cry.”
Auntie Ammy turned to Amelia. “Peter is like you,” she said. “He has eyes that see both sides of the lookin’ mirror He showed us that Indian shaman you was talkin’ about.”
“You saw him?”
“He showed us clear as I can see you now. A tall fella, with horns and dangly things perched up on his head, and cockroaches and beetles droppin’ off of him like he was infestated.”
I looked at Amelia and raised my eyebrows. Auntie Ammy had given us an exact description of Misquamacus.
“So Peter really does have the power,” said Amelia.
“But it’s very rare for little kids to have it, isn’t it?” I asked her. “You told me that you didn’t start seeing spirits until you were twelve or thirteen, when obnoxious little girls turn into obnoxious big girls. This little guy can’t be more than six months old.”
Amelia reached across and gently touched Peter’s forehead. He was gulping his formula now, and he irritably waved her away. “The power most likely comes from his mother. When a parent dies prematurely and leaves a very small child unprotected, their spirit enters into them and takes care of them. That’s how many very young psychics become psychic. They have a deceased parent to introduce them to the spirit world. It works both ways, of course. The parent’s spirit can see the child equally clearly and watch him grow.”
There was even more thunder, right above our heads. It sounded like cannons, and it echoed from one side of Memory Valley to the other.
“This is no nat’ral storm,” said Auntie Ammy. “You mark my words, all hell is goin’ to break loose tonight.”
Amelia told me, “They’ve all seen Eye Killers. Jazz and Auntie Ammy saw at least two of them in Maywood. Tina and Tyler saw some in Hollywood. And both times they had wonder-workers with them.”
“Well, whatever the hell they are, they’ve been busy here in Memory Valley, too,” said Tyler. “Before the phones went out, I had a call that my father and mother and sister had gone blind. That’s why I came here. I’ve been to their house, but there’s nobody there and nobody seems to have any idea where I can find them. Soon as this storm dies down, I’m going to go out looking for them.”
But the storm didn’t die down. We sat in the Aspen Café for more than two hours, and with every passing minute the thunder grew louder and the rain lashed down harder against the windows, and the lightning flickered almost nonstop. Even though the café was so crowded, hardly anybody spoke, and from the way they stared out the windows at the main square, you could tell they felt that something catastrophic was about to happen, even if they didn’t know what it was.
At quarter to seven, Amelia looked at her wristwatch and said, “Let’s go back to Dr. Snow’s. Auntie Ammy’s right. This isn’t a natural storm. This is Misquamacus summoning the spirits of his ancestors. He could attack us at any time now, and we need to find out how to protect ourselves.”
Ranger Edison said, “You two—you seem to know all about this Indian magic stuff. What’s he going to do to us, this Misquamacus?”
I laid my hand on his shoulder. “Imagine the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. The most pain that you could suffer. The most excruciating emotional loss. Then imagine it going on forever. And when I say forever, I mean forever and ever and ever, and no ‘amen’ at the end.”
Ranger Edison looked up at me. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I’m always serious, Jim, except when I’m joking. But believe me, I’m not joking now.”
“So what are you planning to do?”
“Me and Amelia, we’re going to Dr. Snow’s house and we’re going to hold ourselves a séance, to see if we can’t glean some handy tips from the spirit world on saving all of our skins.”
“You want any of us to come with you?” asked Tyler.
“No thanks,” said Amelia. “You all wait here. But I promise you, whatever happens, we’ll be back.”
We left them in the café and went out into the storm. The wind was so strong that as soon as we stepped out of the café door we had a struggle to stay on our feet, and it took all of my strength to pull the door closed behind us. The thunder half deafened us, and the lightning made the buildings in the main square look strangely two-dimensional, as if they were a stage set for The Tempest.
We turned the corner, and then the wind was blowing against our backs, so that we almost had to run. I turned up my collar, but all the same the rain ran down the back of my neck and soaked my shirt. Apart from being wet and windy, it was growing cold, too. I took hold of Amelia’s hand, and she was freezing.
When we arrived at Dr. Snow’s house I knocked frantically on the door. Meredith opened it immediately and we lurched into the hallway, accompanied by a whirl of wet leaves and a ghost-train whistle of wind.
“What a storm!” said Meredith. “I’ve never known anything like it! The whole house is creaking!”
She took us through to the dining room. There was still no power, and so Meredith had lit three tall candelabra with ten candles in each, with flames that curtsied and dipped like dancers in the intermittent draft. Dr. Snow was already seated at the head of the dining table, wearing a dark brown sweater, with a glass of red wine in front of him. His reflection appeared in the dark polished surface, the white-haired king on a playing card.
“Ah, here you are!” he said. “Merry, would you bring two more glasses for our guests?”
We sat down on either side of him. Behind him the heavy red velvet drapes were stirring as if somebody were hiding behind them.
“It’s started,” he said. He lifted one finger and there was a drumroll of thunder, as if he had timed it specially to emphasize what he was saying.
“You’re right,” said Amelia. “He’s calling all his wonder-workers together, and he means what he says. There’s going to be a massacre, and he’s going to turn back time.”
Dr. Snow said, “Since you came here earlier, I’ve been doing some more research into the possession of spirits by other spirits—in particular, the spirits of medicine men.”
“What did you find out?” I asked him. “Anything that’s going to help us to sic Misquamacus?”
“Possibly, Harry. Possibly. It appears that the great Iroquois wonder-worker Pakuna was murdered by a jealous rival, Faces the Moon, who suspected him of carrying on with his wife. After he had slit Pakuna’s throat, Faces the Moon employed the services of another wonder-worker, Silver Wolf, who trapped Pakuna’s spirit in a limestone rock. He dropped the rock into a river, so that it would gradually dissolve and his spirit would be washed away to the ocean, never able to come back to life.
“But while Pakuna was unable to return to the world of touching flesh as himself, he was still remembered and honored by his tribespeople and his name was still spoken—much like Misquamacus. When Silver Wolf died, Pakuna was able to possess his spirit, and return to the world of touching flesh in that way. He cast a powerful spell that imprisoned Faces the Moon inside the trunk of a tree, and then he forced the spirit of Silver Wolf to blind himself and cut off his own genitalia, so that when Silver Wolf returned to the spirit world, he would be regarded as a worthless woman and shunned by all the other spirits.
“There is supposed to be a giant oak somewhere in the Adirondacks from which terrible screams can be heard whenever anyone comes near it. Legend says that is the tree in which Faces the Moon was imprisoned, alive—and still is, and always will be.”
“This backs up what John Singing Rock told us. He said that Misquamacus had taken over the spirits of other wonder-workers, a
nd come back to the real world as them.”
“Yes,” said Dr. Snow. “And that means that we have to regard these threats of his as extremely grave. He will blind us all with his Eye Killers, and he will kill us all. It is probably beyond even his magic to tear down our cities and rip up our highways and our railroads, but the United States will undoubtedly become one of the greatest scenes of devastation on Earth.”
Amelia said, “In that case, the sooner we try to find out how to stop him, the better.”
Meredith brought us two crystal glasses, and Dr. Snow poured us each a glass of wine. He lifted his own glass in a toast and said, “Here’s to the confounding of our enemies.”
Amelia had brought a silver dish with her, and she placed one of her berry-scented candles on it and lit it. She brought out her hazel twig, too, and held it up in both hands, with the point lightly touching her forehead.
“I am seeking a wise man,” she said. “I am seeking a Hupa who knows the ways of magic.”
Dr. Snow and I waited patiently. Amelia repeated herself. “I am seeking a wise man. I am seeking a Hupa who is knowledgeable in the ways of demons and spirits.”
She said it again, and then again, with some minor variations. Myself, I couldn’t feel the presence of anything, except a chilly draft that was giving me a stiff neck.
Nearly ten minutes went by. "I am asking for any spirit’s help in finding a wise man. I wish to talk to a wise man from the Hupa people. I command you to help me. I command you to find him. I command him to speak to me.”
Without any warning at all, Dr. Snow flung his right arm crosswise and knocked over his glass of wine.
“I do not speak to the monsters who murdered my tribe!" he blurted out. But his voice wasn’t Dr. Snow’s voice at all. Instead of the meticulous way in which Dr. Snow usually spoke, this was rough and guttural, almost like a pit bull barking, with a strong and almost incomprehensible accent.
“Holy shit,” I said to Amelia. “Who the hell is this?”
Amelia ignored me. Instead she leaned for ward across the table with her fists clenched and said, “You must speak to me. I have brought your spirit here and I command it.”
“You murdered my tribe!” said Dr. Snow. “You raped my women! You cut open my children as if they were animals!”
“You still have to speak to me,” Amelia told him. “You have no choice. Other wise I will keep your spirit imprisoned here forever, and you will never see your tribe again, even as spirits.”
“Why have you summoned me here?” Dr. Snow asked her. “Have you not done enough to us, without disturbing us in death?”
“Who are you?” Amelia asked him. “I asked for a wise man who knows the ways of magic, and of demons.”
“I am Nihltak. I know the ways of magic, and of demons. I also know the ways of the white men, who are devils.”
“Listen, Nihltak, I need to know about those spirits that have no substance of their own. I am talking about those spirits who visit the world of touching flesh inside the substance of other spirits. I need to know how to dismiss them.”
“Why would you wish to know such a thing?”
“Just tell me. You must.”
Dr. Snow turned and stared at me. His eyes gave me the creeps. They were totally black, as if the sockets were empty. Then he turned back to Amelia and said, “A spirit who has lost his substance can walk through to the world of touching flesh, but he can appear only in the shape of other spirits that do have substance. There is a way, though, in which he can take on his own shape.”
“Oh, yes? And what’s that?”
“He can summon together all of the spirits that he has possessed, and they can climb together into a Thunder Giant. It will look like the spirit who has no substance, but it will stand as tall as many trees, and it will possess all the strength of every spirit that the spirit who has no substance has brought together, and it will crush everything that stands in its path.”
Amelia was frowning. “The Thunder Giant…that’s only a story, surely?”
“Is that what you think? The Thunder Giants walked the earth many times, in the days before the white people came, when the spirits of one tribe were warring against the spirits of another. So much blood was shed that the rivers ran red for days on end, and it was agreed by the wise men of all tribes that it should never be allowed to rise again.”
“Is there any way to destroy it? Any way to bring it down?”
Dr. Snow was silent for a moment. Then he said, “An offering will appease it.”
“What kind of an offering?”
“An orphan who has recently lost both parents. Such an offering will bring it two spirits—the child’s father and mother, male and female, and it can use these spirits to recreate its spiritual substance. Once it has substance, it will be able to visit the world of touching flesh again, in its own shape.”
Dr. Snow paused, and then he added, “It will be obliged to accept such a sacrifice.”
“We have to give him some kid?” I demanded.
Dr. Snow didn’t hear me, or else he pretended not to.
“Hey!” Isaid. “We can’t kill some kid! It’s out of the question! Who does he thinkwe are? Incas?”
Amelia raised her hand to shush me. Then she said, “What about the Eye Killers, the sun devils? How can we stop them from blinding us?”
“I will tell you no more,” said Dr. Snow. “You slew so many of us—why should I care if we slay you in return?”
“You must tell me. You have no choice. If you don’t, I will trap your spirit inside this table forever—or as long as this table lasts. Your reflection is in it already, Nihltak, so it won’t be difficult!”
There was a very long silence. Dr. Snow’s fingers fidgeted on the tabletop as if he were trying to remember some long-forgotten piano piece. Then he said, “The sun devils—they themselves will give you everything you need to destroy them. Their weapon is your weapon.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded. “Come on, you have to be more specific than that!”
But almost as soon as I had said it, Dr. Snow stared at me and gave me a quizzical little shake of his head.
“I’m sorry, Harry. More specific about what?”
“‘Their weapon is your weapon.’ That’s what you just said.”
“Did I? Really? Hm, I wonder what I meant by that." Then he looked around and said, “Oh, dear! How clumsy of me! I seem to have spilled my wine.”
I looked across at Amelia. “Nihltak’s gone,” she said.
“Can’t you get him back?”
“Harry—he didn’t want to tell us anything at all. If I hadn’t threatened to keep him here, trapped in this table—”
“Then why didn’t you? At least we would have found out how to fight those goddamn Eye Killers.”
“Because I couldn’t. Because I don’t know how. I was only bluffing.”
“Oh, great.”
Dr. Snow was reaching across the table to pick up his tipped-over glass. As he did so, I noticed something moving on the back of his hand. At first I thought it was only an effect of the candlelight, flickering in the draft. But then I looked closer and saw that his veins were wriggling, almost as if they were long blue worms.
“Dr. Snow,” I said, and took hold of his wrist. He, too, looked down at his hand, and his veins had turned into worms.
“Oh my good God!” he choked out, and even as he did so, his entire hand collapsed into a mass of writhing worms, and through his shirtsleeve and his sweater I could feel his wrist collapsing, too.
“Amelia!” I shouted. “His hand!”
Dr. Snow lifted his arm, and the worms that had replaced his hand fell onto the tabletop and lay there, curling and uncurling as if they were in agony. He jerked his arm down, and out of his sleeve poured hundreds more worms, white and glistening in the candlelight, which rolled and twisted on the carpet in a heap.
Amelia shouted out, “Nihltak! Nihltak! Let him go!”
But whatever she was trying to do, it was too late. Dr. Snow turned to stare at me in silent panic, and he opened his mouth as if he were going to cry for help. But as he did so, worms fell from his lips, and then his entire face became a twisted mass of worms. Within seconds, his head dropped into his shirt collar and disappeared, leaving only a few worms scattered on the front of his sweater.
Both Amelia and I stood up and backed away. I don’t know about Amelia, but I was shaking as if I had the flu. Inside his clothes, Dr. Snow’s whole body had turned into worms, which slowly crawled down the legs of his chair, and then made their laborious way across the carpet in all directions.
“Jesus,” I said. “What happened to him?”
Amelia’s eyes were wide with shock. “Nihltak took his spirit back with him, to the other side. It was his way of punishing me, for making him help us. He took his spirit, and all that was left was grave worms.”
Meredith called out, “Dad? Are you all right in there? Would you like me to bring you something to eat?”
“What are we going to tell her?” I hissed.
“Dad?”
But at that moment there was a devastating rumble of thunder, so loud that we could feel the entire house shake. This was immediately followed by another, and another.
Amelia said, “We’ll have to explain this to Meredith later. Right now, we have something a whole lot worse to worry about. He’s here. Misquamacus. This is the moment he’s been waiting for, ever since he first reappeared.”
“But how are we going to stop him? We can’t give him some orphan, can we? Do we even have an orphan?”
“There’s Peter, that little guy that Jasmine brought with her.”
“And you’re going to hand him over to Misquamacus? Only over my dead body. Besides, you really think that Misquamacus is going to be satisfied with one measly baby? He wants to kill all of us, and he probably can.”
Blind Panic Page 29