by Leo King
She turned to look. The remaining police were lining up, pistols and rifles at the ready. Ouellette was standing to face her and Blind Moses.
Smiling softly at Richie, she said, “I love you.” She gave her plastic shoe charm one more squeeze.
She faced Blind Moses and then cracked the capsule open. Instantly, pinkish-red powder billowed up. She inhaled deeply, getting her lungs full of it. A moment later, she dropped to her knees as every part of her body lit up in pain.
Holding herself, Sam screeched as she felt her head pound with agony. She felt an electric shock rip down her spine, every nerve in her body firing off at the same time. Her heart beat so fast it felt like it would burst, and her senses went into overdrive.
She could see the fibers on Blind Moses’s clothes. She could hear the heartbeats of everyone around her. She could smell the lingering gunpowder from the shots fired. She could taste the microscopic blood particles still floating in the air and clinging to the humidity. Those headaches, which had been plaguing her all her life, felt as if they were encompassing her entire being.
Rodger cried out, “Sam! What the hell! What have you—Sam! No!”
Then she felt her sense of self get pulled into the very back of her mind as if by another mental force, only allowing her to watch what she was seeing and doing. This time, she knew that someone else was in control. She watched as she removed the wrap from her hair, her ponytail falling out and her blood-matted bangs covering her face.
Ouellette called out, “Get ready to open fire on Blind Moses. Samantha Castille, get down or we will open fire on you as well! Do you hear me? Samantha Castille, get down now!”
Sam wasn’t sure what was going on. Her voice was deeper and had an unnatural reverb to it. And she was no longer in control. Someone or something else was speaking through her. “There is no Samantha.”
She watched as she stood and peered at Blind Moses from behind those bloody bangs. “I am Sam.” She felt a sick, cruel grin spread over her face.
Blind Moses hoisted her rifle in preparation to fight.
She felt herself look back at Ouellette. She felt her teeth bared like fangs. She heard herself say, “You may call me… Sam of Spades.”
Ouellette’s eyes widened. “Open fire, now!”
Sam felt herself smirk and then felt herself somehow force adrenaline to rush through her system. All around her, the world slowed down to a crawl. The cries of those behind her were incomprehensible slurs, the sound of the arriving ambulance was a whale’s song, and the police gunshots were corks popping off wine bottles. Only Blind Moses moved at her speed.
What is going on here? What’s happening to me?
Blind Moses dashed at her, and her body did likewise. All around them, bullets from the police whizzed by sluggishly, as if going through water.
Why, why can’t I control my own body?
Blind Moses fired upon her, three successive shots. Sam’s body bent back, the bullets flying inches from her nose.
I… I can dodge bullets? That’s impossible! No one can move that fast.
Sam’s body flung herself forward and cut at Blind Moses, who dodged and knocked the butterfly knife out of her hand and into the air.
The police continued shooting at them. While most of the bullets whizzed past, one knocked the plastic shoe charm from her hip.
No! Mother’s charm! Another bullet grazed her thigh. She mentally cried out in pain, even though she was unable to move.
Then she heard a different voice speak, the one that had spoken out loud earlier. It spoke within her head—all her body did was grit its teeth.
“Shut up, you stupid little girl!” said the voice, thick with frustration. It was deep and rumbling but still sounded female.
Sam’s body punched Blind Moses into the air with an inhuman level of strength.
However, Sam hardly noticed that, as she was too shocked by the other voice and its response. She could only assume that this voice belonged to the other presence she felt within her. It felt like this “other” did not care for her one bit.
Who the hell are you? she asked the voice.
“Sam of Spades. Now shut up and let me concentrate!”
Sam of Spades, in control of Sam’s body, flew up with Blind Moses, catching the butterfly knife. As Blind Moses started aiming the rifle, she moved to push it away.
Bullets from the police still buzzed past them.
Sam of Spades? Sam thought. That’s my pen name. What do you mean?
Sam of Spades wavered in her actions, as if the inner dialogue was causing her to hesitate.“Your doctor gave me that name. And gave you the pen name. Idiot!” Sam of Spades pushed the rifle to the side just as it fired. Three bullets flew past Sam’s head.
But that doesn’t make any sense, Sam said to the voice. How can it be that you’re here now, after all these years?
Sam of Spades landed and looked up, focusing on the pistol attached to Blind Moses’s hip. She made a grab for it, but was knocked back when Blind Moses kicked her in the chest.
Sam flew back, pain exploding inside her, crying out.
Her body slid back from the impact, then caught herself. Sam of Spades said, “You’re distracting me from the fight. Shut your mouth and enjoy the ride.”
Sam shrieked hysterically in her mind, No! Answer me! How can you be in my body now?
“I’m not new, you pathetic child,” said the voice. “Remember all those times you’ve blacked out? Or stared blankly?”
You mean like earlier tonight in the parking lot? And in all my old sessions with Dr. Klein?
“That’s always when I’ve been in control.” The voice sounded distracted as Sam of Spades rushed in at Blind Moses, stabbing repeatedly and pushing her back as the assassin parried each blow with the butt of her rifle.
Why have I never been aware of you until now? Sam was terrified. She felt she no longer owned her own body.
Blind Moses thrust the butt of her rifle toward Sam’s shoulder.
Her body ducked out of the way while a few stray bullets from the police cut some strands of her hair. “Hell if I know,” said Sam of Spades. “Probably that pink stuff.”
Are you a part of me? Sam asked, fearful of having a split personality.
Sam of Spades stabbed upward at Blind Moses’s gut.
The assassin caught Sam’s wrist, stopping the knife.
The momentary distraction was enough for Sam of Spades to grab the pistol. She then fired the pistol at Blind Moses, who dodged by flipping backward and kicking at Sam’s head.
Sam’s body jumped back, avoiding the kick as Blind Moses landed from the flip. The two paused a moment to regroup as the police reloaded.
“I doubt it. I’m nothing like you,” said the voice, dripping with disdain. “I don’t remember anymore. Those drugs Dr. Klein fed you muddled my memory. And they usually kept me trapped inside, but whenever you’d get too stressed, I’d get a chance to come out and play. Remember that rash of assaults at your college? That was me.”
Sam was stunned. I… I attacked those people? Have I killed anyone? Tell me, please! She felt growing desperation.
Only Ouellette’s voice came through the haze, barking out orders.
“No, those drugs always limited my time in control and inhibited my rage,” said the voice. “But recently, shit has gotten real enough that those drugs aren’t holding me back. Besides, I… I really hate this bitch. I don’t know why, but I’ve never felt so compelled to kill anyone before.”
I don’t understand! What are you? Sam asked the voice. Things had never been so confusing.
Sam of Spades dove at Blind Moses, who bounded back toward some cargo crates, firing three shots at her. She dodged by spinning to the side.
“I told you, I don’t know,” the voice said angrily. “Dr. Klein is convinced that I’m a darker version of you, another personality. He thinks you created me to deal with all the trauma you suffered. Hell if I know for sure.”
Sam of
Spades sprinted toward the cargo crates as Blind Moses jumped on top of them. With a powerful leap, the blond woman soared high into the air, flipping over Blind Moses. Both fired at each other.
This isn’t possible! she cried out. No one can jump that high.
Blind Moses dodged to the side, a few bullets grazing her robe. One of her own three bullets came inches from Sam’s head.
“I can do things with this body that a weakling like you never could,” said Sam of Spades, her voice once again thick with disdain. “You can’t even face what really happened to your father.”
Sam landed in a secluded area surrounded by those cargo crates.
Blind Moses jumped high into the air, the moon behind her. While airborne, she fired three shots at Sam.
Wait, what do you mean? Sam asked. What about Papa?
Sam of Spades bent like a reed. The first two bullets whizzed past. The third, however, grazed her pants, slicing her skin like it was a hot knife through butter. Sam felt pain that she could do nothing about.
The voice grunted. “See? If you keep distracting me, we’re going to die. This bitch is not joking around. She’s trying to kill us.”
Sam of Spades stood upright as Blind Moses started to come down, poised like a scarecrow, the moon looming behind her. The skull mask glistened. For a moment, Sam saw into Blind Moses’s steely blue eyes. She saw only remorselessness.
Tell me what you meant about Papa! Sam felt indignant. All my life, I’ve been plagued by nightmares and half-memories of what my grandfather did. Tell me what happened!
Blind Moses kicked down at Sam, who dodged as Blind Moses landed, missing. The impact made the ground crack.
The voice started to laugh. It was a cruel and unpleasant sound. “You can’t handle it,” Sam of Spades said. “You locked that memory away inside of me. Dr. Klein said it would destroy you. You’re too weak to deal with it.”
No! I want to know. I don’t care what happens, Sam said.
“Fine, then! If you’re that intent on destroying yourself, be my guest,” said the voice, thick with frustration. “Here is that memory you’ve locked away for so very long. Enjoy it and adios, Princess!”
A white light started to appear before Sam, like a movie projector that was out of film.
Sam of Spades threw her knife at Blind Moses, who caught it effortlessly.
The white light encompassed Sam’s consciousness completely.
When her vision returned, Sam still felt like she was watching her life. Now it was like everything was grainy and old, like an 8 mm film. She was in Vincent’s study, wearing a pretty day dress and sitting on his lap.
“Can you do that, Grandpa, really? I don’t have to be afraid anymore?” she asked, her eyes widening.
“For you, my darling Sam,” he replied, hugging her, “I will do anything. No matter the cost.”
Then the scene shifted, and Sam saw the world through ten-year-old Samantha’s eyes.
Vincent was stepping away from her, holding a needle. She was sitting in a comfortable chair in the middle of what looked like a medieval torture chamber. Her body was completely immobile. It wasn’t hard to infer what had just happened.
No… Grandfather injected me with something? I couldn’t move? I was trapped within my own mind? Is this when I started locking myself away from reality?
Vincent, stepping back with empty syringe in hand, said, “Now you will get what you have asked for, my dearest Sam. And Magnolia will rest in peace.”
He walked over to an operating table, where a bound and gagged Edward Castille lay. He took out a shiny silver pen and scribbled notes, appraising his work. “Now, this is the important part, Sam. Always take notes. It helps you organize and remember. Everything happens as you desire when you take proper notes.”
Clearing his throat, he began. “Subject is Caucasian male, forty-two years old, six foot even, and two hundred ten pounds. Name is Edward Castille.”
Taking a scalpel, he said, “We will start with the removal of the tendons of the left elbow.”
For Samantha, and for adult Sam, the show was very long and very gruesome. Tendons were cut, muscles were excised, veins and arteries were pinched off, joints were severed, limbs were removed, and wounds were cauterized. During the entire process, Vincent was as clinical as possible, explaining his actions as if he were giving a lecture. Edward screamed constantly into the gag, kept alive and conscious with a combination of circulatory, respiratory, and intravenous machines located to the side of the table—all the miracles of medical science used to prolong his life… and his suffering.
When Edward was nothing more than a breathing torso, Vincent removed the gag and said, “The subject will now apologize to Samantha for what he has done.”
Edward locked eyes with hers. “I love you, Samantha! I love you, my little magnolia!”
She sat still the whole time, unable to move, unable to blink. Her eyes were wide and staring even as Vincent opened her father’s chest with the Y-shaped cut of an autopsy. Edward finally died when Vincent cut out his heart with a scalpel and forceps.
He held Edward’s heart up and said, “Do you see what I’ve done for you, Sam? Isn’t it wonderful, Sam! Isn’t it wonderful?”
At that moment, Rodger came bursting in and arrested him.
And then the memory was done, and Sam was watching her body fighting Blind Moses as it had before.
Sam of Spades, whoever or whatever you are, I remember now. I was forced to watch my grandfather murder my father. I was so terrified. I don’t know if I created you to deal with things, but I did use you to lock away that memory. I’m sorry.
What she had witnessed had, indeed, disturbed her to the core. However, the feeling that remained wasn’t hatred or rage, nor was it despair. It was resolve. A powerful resolve to put an end to the madness that had plagued her life since childhood. Finally, Sam was ready to face being a Castille—the good and the bad.
Blind Moses was throwing the knife back at Sam. The voice in control of her body was too distracted to dodge in time. The knife embedded itself in her shoulder. The pain was immediate.
The voice cried out in agony. “You’re still here? That’s just great, Princess, but I’m kind of busy right now. So shut the hell up! You can’t handle this kind of reality.”
Blind Moses did a cartwheel and kicked at Sam. Her body blocked, but the impact made her fly back against a cargo crate. The pistol flew out of her hand.
Sam felt her resolve strengthening. With every second, she felt more and more disgust at how she had spent a lifetime running away from her problems. She was tired of running.
No, Sam said to the voice.
“What did you say?” The voice was low and intense.
I said no! I can handle this.
Blind Moses rushed forward with a powerful and precise kick that connected to Sam’s chest, knocking her back.
“Every time you’ve gotten too stressed, I’ve come forward. I am definitely stronger than you!”
Sam felt that might have once been true, but she was determined not to be weak anymore. You’re wrong!
With the internal debate going on, Sam was almost defenseless. Blind Moses started to hit her with a series of punches and kicks that made her cough up blood, turning her abdomen into minced meat.
“You think you can push me back, little Princess?” said the voice, deep and guttural. “I’d like to see you try. Anyway, you get rid of me, and you’re killing us both.”
I doubt it, Sam thought with sudden indignation. I might die here today, but I sure as hell won’t go back to living with my head in the sand. I’m a Castille. I saw my grandfather murder my father. I’ve got a mountain of problems. But one of those problems will not be watching my body move on its own. If I win only one battle today, it will be to push you back down where you belong!
Sam of Spades threw up a wild block and pushed, knocking Blind Moses back.
Blind Moses kicked, knocking Sam once more against the cargo cr
ate. Taking a few steps back, she then cartwheeled, aiming both feet at Sam’s chest.
Sam could tell that this blow was potentially lethal.
Whether I made you, or whether you’re something else, this is my body. You want to lend me your power to kill Blind Moses? Fine, but I’m the one in control. From this day forward, for the rest of my life, I’m in control. I will never lose control of my body, or my life, again. Do you hear me? I CONTROL MY LIFE!
As Sam said that, she pushed everything she had forward, as if clawing through a forest of tangled briar weeds. The pain in her head was excruciating, and she felt this other presence pushing back with claws and fangs. Sam screeched internally as she ripped through the tangled briar, pushing past years of self-doubt, insecurity, and fear. Every ounce of what Sam was pushed forward until she was once again experiencing the world, instead of just observing it.
And then she was in control.
Blind Moses’s attack was suddenly stopped in midair as Sam caught her by the ankles. Sam caught a brief glimpse of her own eyes in Blind Moses’s mask.
They were no longer hollow, no longer devoid of life.
They were no longer filled with rage, cruelty, or ugliness.
They were full. They were strong.
And they were her own.
“I’m going to kick your ass, Blind Moses,” said Sam. Again she grinned. But this time, it wasn’t with cruelty. It was with confidence.
Chapter 14
Blind Moses
Date: Tuesday, August 11th, 1992
Time: 12:15 a.m.
Location: Napoleon Avenue Wharf
Port of New Orleans
Sam felt absolutely incredible. She was in control and yet had all the power of Sam of Spades. She felt as if she could do anything—it was a sensation of complete invincibility. She knew she could defeat Blind Moses.
After catching Blind Moses’s kick, she spun her around by her ankles and threw her into the side of a cargo crate. Blind Moses landed with a hard impact.
Immediately, Sam felt time speed back up to normal. She heard Ouellette shouting. She saw flashing red and blue lights everywhere. She knew that even once she defeated Blind Moses, she’d still have to contend with the police.