Jeremy Chikalto and the Hazy Souls

by T.S. DeBrosse

  “Jeremy... Mantel, letum libero everto!” said another voice.

  The further he floated from the tunnel, the thicker the purple Haze became. A flash of red light brought Jeremy to a halt. A scream punctured the Haze and a bloody corpse appeared before him, accompanied by two black bears. Jeremy, startled, pushed back. He turned to look at the tunnel, and saw more animals and corpses floating in the Haze.

  “Why are there...” Jeremy shielded his brow and squinted. The Haze seemed to go on indefinitely and every now and then a new creature would materialize, as though it had popped out of a fold in space.

  “Jeremy Chikalto! Come. Mantel is here!” Now it was a man's voice. It sounded desperate.

  He had to focus. He had to follow the voices. Jeremy felt for Maren's pulse. It was slow. Lyrna's nose twitched. Just asleep, Jeremy reassured himself, but he wasn't entirely convinced.

  “Jeremy.” Jeremy continued swimming towards the voice. Who was Mantel? Why did the voice keep changing? All the voices that called his name were coming from the same direction.

  A crowd of massacred bodies floated past him, shrouded in a pink mist. A fizdruft, very much like Lyrna in stature but with a black and orange coat, glided through the air, pulling a single thread attached to the body of a middle-aged man. The man was rocking back and forth, repeating, “Samantha, I'm sorry Samantha!” Blood spilled from a bullet wound in his head. The fizdruft and man disappeared behind a dark purple cloud.

  Now shades of gray swirled past him. The tunnel that Jeremy had originally entered was no longer in sight. He was very close to the source of the voices. “Jeremy. Almost...” Jeremy could see the young woman who now spoke his name. Her head was almost completely severed from her body, hanging by a mere flap of skin. She pointed towards the rip in the fabric of Haze where she had recently entered. “Exit there! It's marked with a tear!” she yelled in one breath. An animal Jeremy had never seen before, a tiger-like creature with huge fangs, grabbed hold of a thread that extended from her sternum, and pulled the woman past him. Even with her head nearly severed, Jeremy could see a wide smile spread across her face, her pupils enlarged and menacing. “For Mantel!” she whispered before disappearing out of sight.

  Jeremy floated towards the rip and pressed his body against it, pushing Lyrna through to the other side. He held Maren loosely in his other arm. Jeremy turned around for one final glimpse of the Haze and saw an elk racing towards him. At the last second, the elk turned and Jeremy saw a disemboweled man. “Help me, please!” the man cried, and as he passed, he grabbed Maren by the arm. The elk dragged the man away by the chord connected to his sternum, and Maren was ripped from Jeremy's arms. The man, the elk, and Maren disappeared into dark purple rays of light. "Maren!" he cried, and he swam after her, but he couldn't match the galloping elk. As Jeremy swam, the purple turned to a shade of crimson red. A boar crossed in front of him, butting the head of a scaly, horned demon that had emerged through a fold in space. Its claws grappled with the boar's tusks. A flame soon engulfed the demon, burning it to ashes. The boar trotted away. Maren was gone.

  Jeremy looked around the Haze. In the distance, he could see the outline of a lion. It was running towards him, snarling. Jeremy kicked backwards towards the rip and pushed himself out and onto a patch of grass. His body rattled with each breath and tingled from head to toe. He rolled over, coughing. Lyrna lay curled up at his side in an uneasy sleep. Blood covered the grass and pooled on a large, flat stone tablet. Drag marks led into the trees.

  Chapter 10

  Kidnapped

  Gillian and Mateo sat in the docking bay pavilion, waiting for the return of Maren, Jeremy, and Lyrna. The eclipse had ended and light streamed down through the large, knobby trees. The wind had also settled into a light breeze. Gillian let down her blonde hair and clipped her barrette to the side of her dress.

  “Do you think Maren likes Jeremy?”

  “I doubt it, she's too sensible. But boy, he looks at her like she's a piece of meat.” Mateo patted his belly. “I hope they bring leftovers.”

  “And I do absolutely adore Raaychila and Wantoro, it's a shame Jeremy isn't more like them.”

  “He's like his mother,” said Mateo.

  “He most certainly is not!”

  “The dancing, the singing, both are a bit wacky, you've said so yourself.”

  “Raaychila is charming and sweet, that makes a world of a difference.”

  Mateo laughed and stood up, stretching his arms overhead. “Hey look, I think that's them.” He frowned. Gillian stood beside her husband and squinted, shading her brow with her hand.

  The IIU and Ms. Fritz emerged from the forest path just beyond the stretch of pavilions. They walked briskly to the Nononia's spaceship.

  Gillian and Mateo ran forward. Bentley raised his hand.

  “Please, stay where you are,” said Bentley. The other IIU members took their place beside him while Ms. Fritz shuffled behind.

  “What's happened? Where's Maren and Jeremy? Where's Lyrna?” Gillian's eyes darted back and forth. Mateo remained silent.

  Bentley brought his hand down. “Gillian, Mateo, I'm afraid someone has kidnapped your daughter and the Cajjez. We've called in a full IIU search team and they'll be arriving shortly. All space travel patrols have been notified. Please remain in your craft until further notification.”

  Chapter 11

  The Long Lost Son

  Jeremy parted a thick swarm of flies with his hand. He shook Lyrna. Her small body rose and fell with each tiny breath. “Lyrna! Lyrna, wake up!” A gun shot fired.

  Lyrna opened her eyes wide. She puffed, hissed, and jerked her body left and right, leapt into the air, turned around and finally dashed into the shrubs.

  Jeremy stood up, his heart pounding. “Maren's gone, Lyrna. Maren's gone.” He examined the flat stone slab, covered in blood. His stomach turned. “Whoever did this must have ran off when they heard the gunshots. We have to get out of here.” Jeremy crept to the shrubs. “Come on, Lyrna! Let's go!”

  “Lyrna bad dream!”

  “It wasn't a dream. We went behind the air. We have to go now.”

  Lyrna poked her head out from under the leaves, parting the shrubs with her whiskers. “Blood ground. Where Maren? Fritz?”

  Jeremy backed away and set out in the direction opposite the drag marks. Lyrna scurried after him.

  The air was warm and the sun was high in the sky. Birds circled overhead, squawking. Jeremy peered up at the tree tops, the foliage thicker and greener than anything he'd ever seen before.

  “Where?” asked Lyrna.

  “I don't know. We're certainly not on Findle anymore.”

  “Lyrna hate black orb.”

  Jeremy and Lyrna arrived at a mattress propped up against a thick tree stump. The ground was littered with beer cans. Jeremy sat against the tree stump. He picked up a beer can and analyzed the label. “Busch Light, never heard of it. Where do you think we are?” Lyrna jumped onto the mattress, eager to get settled and to groom her fur. Jeremy dropped the beer can and quickly grabbed Lyrna by the ear tuft, pulling her off the mattress. “Don't go on that!”

  Lyrna grunted and settled beside him on the grass and watched the crows as they circled and swooped. Suddenly overwhelmed, the Cajjez buried his head in his hands, raking his hair with his fingertips as he sobbed. Where was Maren? Had he made a mistake following the voices? The being he saw in the Haze, the one with the severed head–she was not an angel, she was a dead woman. “I just don't understand, Lyrna.”

  “Maren come soon,” said Lyrna hopefully.

  “No, I don't think so.”

  A gunshot scattered the birds. Jeremy and Lyrna jumped. The source was close. A large, sandy-colored dog ran past, splattering drool across Jeremy's cheek. Jeremy wiped it with his sleeve in disgust, leaving a streak of blood, tears, dirt, and spit.

  “Well, now looky here!” A big, ruddy face pocked with acne appeared inches away from Jeremy's own. Jeremy gasped and pressed his back ag
ainst the stump.

  “And a kitty cat, too!”

  “Are we on Findle? Is English your first language?” asked Jeremy in one breath.

  “English! What do you mean English, boy? Let's get 'er up.” The man gripped Jeremy's forearm and lifted him to his feet. Examining him, “Now what have you been up to in my neck of the woods? Boozin'?” The man slapped Jeremy on the back with his leathery hand and let out a guffaw. Jeremy stumbled forward.

  “But have you seen a girl? She has blonde hair and gray eyes; she’s a little taller than me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Stinky man beast!” mewed Lyrna.

  “What'd you say, boy?” The man straightened his back and stared down at Jeremy.

  “A girl–”

  “No, after that!”

  Jeremy grimaced and turned his head. The man's breath was a mix of onions, cigarettes and whiskey. “I didn't say anything.”

  “What? You didn't say nothin'? I heard you!”

  “Lyrna said your breath stinks, but I agree.”

  The man spat on the ground and then looked at Lyrna. She hissed and hid behind Jeremy's leg. “Funny,” said the man. “You're real funny. You tellin' me you got a talkin' cat?”

  “Fizdruft. She's a fizdruft.”

  “Mmhm, let's take you back to my place and get you warshed up, and you can tell me all 'bout your fuzzrat and that blood you got on your face. Then we'll get you back to your folks.” The man knelt to the ground and grabbed an unopened beer can. Popping the tab, he guzzled it down and then tossed the can onto the mattress. “Name's Bill, by the way. Hey! Chester!” Bill whistled and hollered and soon the large canine bounded back to its owner. “All right, this way then.”

  Chester gave Lyrna two disinterested sniffs before leading the party back to Bill's house.

  It was a fifteen minute walk to Bill's house. A trail led the way through tall trees and across makeshift bridges. River beds with fresh mud suggested recent rain. Jeremy wondered if it rained here often. He had a feeling it did, or at least the humidity kept things moist. Beads of dew clung to a spider web. Jeremy counted twenty webs on his way to Bill's house. Bill's house itself was a humble dwelling and boasted what appeared to be an outside dining room: a water-worn picnic table and chairs sat on a slab of weathered cement; ash spilled forth from a wood-burning stove. The house was small but sturdy looking. Faded blue paint played along the exterior, interrupted only by exposed wood and concrete.

  “You live here?” asked Jeremy.

  “And I'll probably die here. My great grandpa built this place with his own two hands. Family-owned mountain, yep.” The man belched and called out to his wife. “Henrietta! Hey Hen! Come on out and take a look at what I've scrounged up!” Bill winked at Jeremy and whistled a folksy melody. The door creaked open and out poked the head of a boy who looked a couple of years older than Jeremy.

  “Who's that?” said the boy.

  “Forgot to ask, would you believe it, Jason! Go get your ma. Your ma will set things right.”

  Before Jeremy could offer his name, the boy's head disappeared back into the house. The boy shouted, “Hey, Ma! Pa's brought a boy home!” and within a few seconds, the boy reemerged, followed by his mother. Henrietta was a round, solid woman – large, but proportional. Her cheeks were flushed apples and her thin gray hair clung to her forehead. She appeared to be sweating, probably from cooking. A white apron decorated with frolicking kittens revealed that she'd made a mess of spaghetti sauce.

  “Hello there! What a fine, handsome young man!” began Henrietta. She looked Jeremy up and down, her smile broadening with each passing second. “Handsome, yessir!”

  Bill laughed. “Don't expect much out of him, we walked 'bout a mile and he ain't said a peep. In his own world, this one.”

  Jason pushed past his father and stood directly in front of the Cajjez. “Probably 'cause you didn't ask him his name! Hey, so what's your name?”

  Jeremy brushed his hair off his forehead. “Cajjez Jeremy Chikalto.” The Cajjez took a step back, feeling his personal space to be compromised.

  Jason squinted and batted a fly away from his brow. “Cajjez what? Jeremy?”

  “Cajjez is my title. You don't recognize me?”

  Henrietta stepped forward and untied her apron. “So, what brings you around these parts? Bill, what's the story?” She kept her eyes on Jeremy. Despite being covered in mud and blood, he was such a delightful sight, it was hard to look away.

  “Found him 'bout a mile or so away in the woods. Got blood on his face.”

  “Is he lost? Jeremy, what were you doing out in those woods?” There was concern in her voice.

  Jeremy shielded his eyes from the sunlight. He'd have to think on his feet. “I don't know.” Failure.

  “Where you from?”

  “Watico.” Jeremy pet Charlie, the golden retriever, who had begun to lick his hand.

  “Where on Earth is Watico?”

  “So I'm on Earth?” Jeremy's eyes widened. “Earth, wow!”

  “Oh dear,” said Henrietta. “And where are your parents?”

  Jeremy felt a lump collecting in the back of his throat. “They're far, far away, I guess.”

  “Bill, we'd better get him inside and cleaned up for supper. We'll sort this out.” Henrietta disappeared back inside the small house.

  By the time Jeremy cleaned himself with a warm, wet dish rag, the Truitt family were convinced that he was no ordinary boy. His beauty and exquisite posture marked him with distinction. Electricity seemed to spark all around him. Lyrna too, though originally ignored, was beginning to take on an extraordinary quality. She was rather large for a cat, and looked more like a wild desert cat than any domesticated cat the Truitt family had ever seen. Furthermore, Lyrna's gray ears with black tufts at the end had the most peculiar habit of twitching whenever anyone looked her way.

  Dinner was pasta with spaghetti sauce. Henrietta pressured Jeremy into drinking goat's milk, a sight that delighted the entire family. Jeremy spit it all over the floor. Dessert was donuts. Lots and lots of donuts. Jeremy was familiar with donuts and gladly indulged.

  “So where is Watico?” continued Henrietta between gulps of goat's milk.

  Her son Jason glared. “Never heard of no Watico and I go to public school now.”

  Jeremy decided to play dumb. If it was true that people from Earth didn't know about Watico, then at least the Earth Scholars' observation missions on Earth hadn't been compromised. Earth really was isolated. “I don't know. I can't remember much. I think I hit my head,” he lied.

  “But Ma, I saw when he was cleanin' himself that he weren't bleedin' from the head. He only got it on his hands and a streak across his face.” Jason's brows knitted together.

  “Shush! The boy's got the amnesia.” Henrietta stood up from her seat and began clearing the plates away.

  Bill leaned forward on his elbows, his eyes following his wife. “You know, I thought he was actin' funny! He told me his cat was sayin' somethin' 'bout me, and I thought, boy, maybe he had a drink too many. Found him surrounded by beer cans!”

  Henrietta shook her head. “No, no. This boy ain't drunk. I'd a known if he were, have enough experience with you. That's the devil in those drinks, you know, tempting you away from the Lord. We ain't wantin' any more of the devil's influence in this house. I'd a recognized.” Henrietta scrubbed the plates with extra vigor before setting them in the dish rack.

  Jeremy pet Lyrna, who had settled on his lap. She looked up at him and was about to speak. Jeremy interrupted. “No! No, Lyrna.”

  “What is it?” said Henrietta, looking up from the dishes.

  “Lyrna scratched me was all.”

  Lyrna hissed.

  Jason eyed Jeremy and Lyrna with suspicion from across the table. “That's a big cat you got there, a strange lookin' cat. It's an exotic animal, I can tell.” Jason smiled, pleased with himself for using the word “exotic,” and crossed his arms.

  Jeremy ignored him.
“So,” continued Jeremy, “where am I on Earth exactly?”

  “Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania.” This time it was Bill who spoke, though he continued to feign an interest in the comics section of the newspaper.

  “And now where did you say your parents were?” Henrietta abandoned the pile of dishes in the sink and stood beside Jeremy. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “I...” Jeremy looked at his lap. “What I mean is, I don't have any parents.”

  “Oh heavens! No parents! Do you remember your parents? Bill, did you hear this? Bill!” Henrietta marched over to Bill and tore the newspaper out from his hands.

  “No. I don't remember much of anything, except for I know I'm an orphan.”

  This time, Lyrna did scratch Jeremy. Jeremy winced in pain.

  Henrietta gripped the table and began rocking back and forth.

  Bill stiffened in his seat. “Oh no, Henrietta!” said Bill.

  Henrietta's rocking only intensified. “Oh Lord, oh Lord. I've got a feelin', Bill. I've got a feelin'.”

  “Henrietta, let's go you and me talk ‘bout this out back.”

  “I've got a feelin', Bill. Oh Lord. Oh Lord. See the Lord's mercy, Jason? Do you not recognize the Lord's infinite mercy?” At this, Henrietta burst into tears. Bill escorted her out of the kitchen, leaving Jeremy and Lyrna utterly perplexed. Jason averted his eyes from them and leaned in for another helping of donuts. Jeremy pet Lyrna. After making eye contact with his fizdruft, he mouthed, “Please don't talk.”

  That night, Jeremy was put up in Jason's bedroom, a small room with low ceilings and faded yellow wallpaper. A tree outside scratched against the side of the house. Jason, obviously used to the menacing sound, slept soundly on the hardwood floor. Jeremy shivered. He did not wish to stay at the Truitt's for long, but recognized the need to gather as much information about Pennsylvania as possible. He knew enough about Earth to get by – the different countries, continents, religions. But he wasn't able to recall Pennsylvania. Should I inquire about Mantel? Ms. Fritz had instructed him to seek out Mantel. But then... Ms. Fritz had almost killed Maren. And the Intergalactic Intelligence Unit – what to make of them? And Maren! Would he ever see her again? Jeremy's head pounded the more he thought about his day, the purple Haze, and his separation from Maren. Nothing made sense, but everything had to make sense. After all, Jeremy thought, an angel visited me. I was marked by a divine messenger. It was his responsibility to sort things out. Jeremy waited for a sign that night, watching the air for some hint of movement, but nothing happened.