“Mister Smiler is right,” he said. “Beth, have you ever heard of hypnosis?” He asked, glancing to the bedroom door to make sure that he didn’t see any sign of the Bardos or their staff.
“Um umm,” she said, shaking her head from side to side. “What’s hipposis? Does it have something to do with hippos?”
“It’s a way of talking to you that’s a little bit different from regular talking,” Oscar explained. “Sometimes our minds can set up walls to protect us from things. In a way, your mind is a good friend like that. It cares about you and wants to make sure you don’t get too upset or hurt too much. But sometimes these walls can get in the way of us knowing the truth. Sometimes we have to take them down. That’s where hypnosis comes in. I want to talk your brain into taking down the barriers so we can see the truth and help you. How do you feel about that? It’s very important that you’re OK with it.”
Beth looked very confused. “How do you talk to my brain?” She asked.
“That’s a good question. If we get you super relaxed, so relaxed that you’re just about to go to sleep, so relaxed that you could almost float away, your brain will feel comfortable enough to talk to me directly.”
“This is confusing,” she said, wrinkling her face. She looked to her upper right, to Mister Smiler, who was apparently telling her something. She turned back to Oscar, saying, “Mister Smiler says you need to hurry.”
“OK, Beth. Keeping your back straight, I want you to put your head way back and look up at the ceiling.”
She tilted back until her neck would go no farther. “I’m doing it,” she said. “I’m looking at the ceiling.”
“Good. The next thing I need you to do is find a spot somewhere on the ceiling, any spot that stands out. Did you pick one?”
Beth’s eyes were wide and pointed straight up to the ceiling. “I got one,” she said. “I picked a spot. It’s just a little dot.”
“Good,” said Oscar, taking a slow, deep breath himself. “Now I want you to really get to know that little dot. Get to know its shape. Get to know everything about it. It’s going to be a magic spot.” He kept telling her to keep breathing and think about nothing other than the spot. After a while, he asked, “Do you see the shape of the magic spot?”
“Um hmm,” she said. “I can see it.”
“While you’re watching the spot as closely as you can, Beth, tell me when you see it start to change color.”
Beth continued to watch while her stare became dreamy, then blank. After nearly a minute, she told Oscar, “The spot is pretty. It’s turning red, and blue.”
“As you see the spot changing color, Beth, you’re getting even more relaxed. It’s becoming hard to keep your eyes open. It feels good to just let them close.”
The little girls eyes fought for a few moments but eventually collapsed shut.
Oscar continued, saying, “You’ll notice that even with your eyes closed, you can still see the magic spot. Do you see it, Beth?”
“Um hmm,” she answered. “Now it’s sparkling.”
“Good,” said Oscar. “That’s normal. Keep your eyes closed and focus on the shape.”
“It’s sparkling,” she said, with her voice sounding a bit faint.
“Now you’re gonna see the magic spot get smaller and smaller as it gets farther and farther away. As the magic spot disappears, you’re going to feel even more relaxed.”
Beth’s expression emptied even more, while most of her body went slack. Only the muscles in her neck, the ones that kept her head pointed straight at the ceiling, seemed alive. Her breathing became slow. Her eyeballs began to dance under her eyelids.
“The magic spot has faded away,” Oscar told her. “And now you’re perfectly relaxed.”
“I see red stars,” Beth said. “They’re so bright. They’re everywhere.”
“What else do you see?”
“I can see Mister Smiler. He’s right here. He’s right by my side.”
“Is anyone else there?”
“They’re not here yet but they’re coming. I can see them coming. Mister Smiler is afraid for me.”
“Beth, I want you to tell me who’s coming for you.”
“I don’t know who they are. They’re wearing white. Hoods. I can’t see their faces. There are birds too. The birds protect them.”
“What else do you see?”
“Now I’m laying in my bed. It’s past my bedtime but I can’t sleep. Mister Smiler is standing by my bed to protect me. They’re coming. He’s telling me they’re coming. I want to run away but he says it’s too late. He says to just shut my eyes.”
“What happens next?”
“They’re in my room.”
“Who, Beth? Who is in your room?”
“White robes. They pinch my neck. It really pinches. Stop it. It hurts.”
Oscar checked the door and they were still alone. He asked, “Can you see their faces?”
“No,” she exhaled. “They’re here now. They pinch my neck again.” Her right hand floated up to her neck as though the spot hurt. She tucked her fingers into her turtleneck and rubbed her neck.
Oscar pulled the neck of her turtleneck down to inspect the area. Several red pinpoints looked like freckles at first. Then Oscar was sure he was seeing the marks from a needle.
“Beth, who did this to you? Who is doing this to you?”
“Mister Smiler wants to speak to you himself. He says he wants to tell you a secret that he doesn’t want me to know.”
“OK, Beth. I mean Mister Smiler.”
With her eyes closed but pointed to the ceiling, Beth started to sway back and forth on the carpet. Then she began to hum with an uncharacteristically low rumble, like the slow growl of a tiger.
Oscar felt a rush of warmth and dizziness in his head. It reminded him of the feeling that accompanies a big swig of gorgonorphan on an empty stomach.
The light in the room seemed to be getting sucked out by a vacuum. The features of the walls, the shelves of toys, posters of cartoon characters started to dull, then fade, then go dark. The edges of Beth’s bedroom became indistinct and the entire space became a black void. An empty chill took over the air.
The entire world had disappeared.
“Oscar Loste, Doctor Oscar Loste,” whispered a voice from the blackness behind Beth. As the figure rose, sets of long, distorted fingers, like vines from an ancient rainforest, wrapped themselves around her shoulders. “We’ve been watching you for some time.”
The stunning sight of Mister Smiler’s face sent Oscar back several feet. One cloudy, white eye the size of a basketball blinked from the center of his head. His booming whisper resounded as though he was speaking inside Oscar’s head.
“She’s asleep,” said Mister Smiler, as he ran his long fingers through Beth’s hair. His mouth wasn’t producing the words but Oscar could still hear him.
“Tell me what’s happening. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“Our Beth is in terrible danger,” said Mister Smiler as he pointed one of his long, distorted fingers to the picture window, indicating that Oscar should look outside.
He felt dizzy and had some trouble getting up off the carpet. When he got to the window, he noticed nearly a dozen private security people below.
“I don’t understand,” said Oscar. “What’s happening?”
“They found her and stole her,” said Mister Smiler.
“Who?”
“You know who.”
“Why?”
“For the ritual. To gain power. To change the world. It’s working, Oscar.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“You need your own ritual.”
“I don’t understand. What does that mean?”
Mister Smiler blinked his lone, cloudy eye and pointed to the bedroom door. Soft footsteps were coming up the stairs. When Oscar turned back, Mister Smiler was gone.
Beth was still in her hypnotic trance. Oscar snapped his fingers and life sprung back into he
r face. She opened her eyes the moment her adopted parents reached the doorway.
“Is everything all right?” Asked Eva Bardo, standing next to her husband in the frame of the door. “Beth, are you OK, my dear?”
“Um hmm,” answered Beth but there was definitely confusion in her expression.
“What have you been doing?”
Oscar answered right away, saying, “Beth was just telling me about a dream she had.”
“Is that right, Beth?” Asked Eva.
There was a clear moment of confused deliberation for the little girl. She looked at Misses Bardo, then Oscar. “Um, Um hmm,” she said after a moment. “My dream.”
“Fine then,” said Eva Bardo. Just before she turned to leave, she told him, “Your time is just about up, Oscar.”
After the sound of Eva’s footsteps became silence, Oscar stared at Beth for a minute. It was as though what he was about to tell her consisted of the most important words ever spoken in his life.
“Beth,” he said, “if it’s OK with you, I’m going to take you away from here.”
“When am I coming back?”
“Not ever.”
She seemed to understand on some level. “Are you taking me away from my mommy and daddy?”
“Yes. Do you know why I’m taking you away, Beth?”
She thought about it. “Do my mommy and daddy know about what’s been happening to me?” Her eyes welled up and her face trembled.
Oscar didn’t know what to tell her. He just pulled her into his arms, whispering, “I’m sorry, Beth. I’m going to protect you. I promise. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” At that point, he was crying and he stopped himself for a moment. “Tonight at midnight. When the big grandfather clock rings twelve times, I’ll be waiting where the tree broke the fence.”
“Mister Smiler says we’re going away.”
“We are. I promise.”
Eva Bardo stood at the door, smiling with her mouth but threatening with her eyes. “I’m sorry, Oscar,” she said. “Your time is up.”
He squeezed Beth one last time, whispering, “remember to count to twelve. Just be strong a little while longer.”
…
Chapter 24
Feed the Spell
Arnie didn’t speak at all on the way to the Bardo estate that night. It was nearing midnight when he switched off the headlights to his truck and pulled up to the tree-lined east end of the property. Dozens of expensive cars lined the perimeter of the house and the windows were aglow with lights and activity.
Arnie said to Oscar in the passenger seat, “These rich fucks kill my brother, then have a fucking party.”
The window to Beth’s room was one of the very few not lit. Oscar hoped she would still follow through with the plan.
The time struck midnight. The sound of the Bardo’s grandfather clock intermingled with the cocktail party voices. Oscar noticed a flicker of light in Beth’s window. It looked like she was using her reading light. After a few moments, the flickering stopped and Beth’s window went dark again.
Oscar told Arnie, “She must be on her way down. Keep the engine running.”
Arnie kept his eyes on the house, saying, “I don’t know what’s going on here but it’s gonna end tonight. Once she’s out of there, I’m gonna burn the place down and kill every last one of them. If they weren’t involved with killing my brother, fuck em. It’s guilt by association.”
The grandfather clock was nearly finished with its long monologue when they saw the side door of the house open. It immediately set of the house alarm and floodlights blanketed the yard. Beth charged as fast as she could straight to Oscar and Arnie at the side of the house.
Beth was nearly within Oscar’s reach when something stopped her. A set of hands came out of nowhere and locked around her shoulders before she could get to the gap in the electric fence. Oscar realized it was Eva Bardo with her grip on Beth. She handed the little girl to one of the security men, who took her back toward the house.
Oscar couldn’t get through the gap in the fence. He yelled to her and Beth reached out to him. Then she was back in the house. Police sirens wailed in the distance. They were moving fast.
Followed by her husband, Eva approached Oscar and Arnie at the fence. She seemed without a trace of emotion, businesslike and colder than ever. At each of her sides, guards pointed their guns.
Oscar held Arnie back from getting shocked by the electricity.
Eva and Lorne Bardo faced them from the other side of the fence. Something had vanished from their expressions, as though a set of masks had been removed and their true faces were visible. Then Eva Bardo oozed out a smile that was a mixture of threat and taunt.
The look sent Arnie into madness. He shouted at them, “I know what the fuck you did to my brother! Don’t think you’re gonna get away with it! The law is coming down on you, you fucking Bardos!”
“I see things a bit differently,” said Eva. “Do you hear those sirens? That sound isn’t for us. That sound isn’t the sound of help coming for you. That’s the sound of the cavalry. Our cavalry!” She nearly growled.
“Why don’t you come inside, Oscar?” smiled Lorne Bardo. “Take a step closer.”
The guard next to him pointed his gun at Oscar’s head.
“Thank goodness,” Eva added, “that security was here to stop a violent drug addict obsessed with my dear daughter. Come on, Oscar. Take one step on the property,” She said. “Your corpses will be easier to explain away.”
Oscar took a step back from the fence, holding Arnie by the collar. With his eyes wide with anger and astonishment, he asked Eva Bardo, “Just please don’t hurt her. I don’t know what you’re doing but just please don’t hurt your own daughter.”
Eva took a step toward the fence, bringing with her what seemed like a bitter cold draft. “We figured out a way to find Beth,” she said, “Her power is rare but she isn’t the only one. Once we’re finished with this child, we’ll simply acquire ourselves another.”
What Eva Bardo said and more importantly, the completely detached manner with which she spoke, stopped Oscar and Arnie’s hearts. They stared at the woman on the other side of the fence while they slowly backed up the way they would from a coiled rattlesnake.
They started for Arnie’s truck.
Eva Bardo screamed at them with the wind of an air raid siren, “Sleep and dream in fear! Feed the spell, you cattle!”
…
While he and Oscar panted louder than the engine, Arnie drove through the red lights until they were on familiar ground. Stunned into a state where words didn’t seem to exist, they just looked forward, to the dark city beyond the windshield. The car eventually stopped on a lifeless side street by a closed-down shopping mall.
“I always knew something like this would happen,” Arnie said, shaking his head. “I fucking knew it. For a long time, I knew something wasn’t right.”
“I’ve failed,” said Oscar. “I have this feeling like I was supposed to do something important, something very important. And I failed.”
Arnie finally looked at him, with tenderness and a slight upturn of a smile, saying, “I never told you what the McSorley Family secret project actually is.” He nearly smiled all the way, adding, “There don’t seem to be many accidents in my life anymore. Doc, we met for a reason.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The project was everything to my dad. Even though I hated him, it was everything to me too. It was such a fixture in my childhood that I never considered how strange it was. My dad was like a man possessed when it came to that thing. It was the only thing that really made him happy. Then I felt this fire in my soul to carry it on, for the longest time without knowing why. The universe, Doc, is a magical thing. It’s time for me to show you what I been working on in my garage.”
…
Arnie whipped off the gray tarp that covered the thing like a magician.
The tank looked like it had just come rolling out of the F
rench factory. The massive treads that propelled the thing were oiled and polished. With its main gun and trailer, the infantry machine could barely fit in the McSorley’s garage. Arnie and his father had completely rebuilt the thing, restoring the engine, even machining their own parts out of high-grade steel. “Renault” was inscribed on the front armor plate along with the year of manufacture: 1939.
“The Renault was built,” Arnie said with beaming pride, “to whoop the ass of those decency-hating, occult-loving bastards, the Nazis. Most people don’t know they were into that hocus pocus voodoo shit too. This machine here was designed and built to stop evil. Unfortunately, this one never saw battle. It never got to live up to its destiny. Not until tonight.”
…
By the time they finished hauling Arnie’s secret project to the outer fence of the glass factory grounds, the tires on the trailer had nearly been worn away. The load was too much for the rig. It looked as though it couldn’t go more than a few more feet without buckling and falling apart.
“The main gun is the only part that doesn’t work,” Arnie said as they both admired the Renault tank.”
“Do you even know how to drive it? I bet it doesn’t even have a steering wheel.”
“I’ve read all about it online,” said Arnie. “The training manuals are pretty good.” He added, “Hopefully not much was lost in translation.”
They got inside the tank, with Oscar manning the gun turret and Arnie driving in the front. The interior smelled like metal and fresh machine oil. When Arnie started up the diesel engine, the tank shook them both until it felt like their heads were spinning. A small battery-powered pen lamp provided their interior light. Arnie stared at the controls and took a deep breath.
“I wish Dale was here,” he said with no emotion.
“We don’t have to do this,” said Oscar. “I don’t even know what we’re doing.”
“It’s destiny. Don’t you feel it?”
Oscar thought about it before saying, “I kinda do.”
“My whole life has been meaningless. I’ve been waiting for this moment, the moment to fight to get out of this hell, the moment to stop being afraid. Those fucking assholes killed my brother and they’re doing God-knows-what to that little girl. I refuse to live in a world where I sit back and let that shit happen.”
Enter the Uncreated Night Page 16