Catfish Lullaby

by A. C. Wise

  The light caught the tangle of wood. Caleb heard a faint, reverberating note. He touched the carving with one finger, and it shivered. The wood resolved for just a moment—Catfish John’s face unmistakable.

  “What is he?” Caleb asked.

  “Very old,” Cere said, without lifting her head, as if that were all the answer or explanation needed.

  Silence stretched around them. The sound of night insects filtered in even though the window was closed. She slipped the carving back into her pocket. Except no. Caleb knew there was no way the carving would fit in the pocket of her jeans. She’d made it vanish back to the same place she’d drawn it from. Outside.

  “Sometimes I’m already there in the dark.” Cere’s voice was almost inaudible. Caleb flinched but didn’t let go of her hand. “I’m there, and I’ve already birthed monsters, and it’s too late to stop it. But I’m here too. Everything is happening all at once.”

  “The spare room is ready.” Kyle stood uncertainly in the doorway.

  “Thank you.” Cere unfolded herself from the bed.

  She touched Kyle’s arm in passing and continued down the hall. Kyle took Cere’s place on the bed. After a moment, his fingers replaced hers in Caleb’s hand.

  “Are you okay?” They spoke it at the same time. Caleb laughed, a release of nervous tension.

  “Yeah,” Caleb said. “You?”

  “I think so.” Kyle glanced toward the door. “Is she safe?”

  Caleb wasn’t sure whether Kyle was asking whether Cere was protected or whether they were safe from her.

  “I honestly don’t know.” He answered both.

  “So what do we do?” Kyle asked.

  “Tomorrow we talk to Rose. Then the four of us sit down together, and . . . we’ll figure something out.”

  The answer was inadequate, but it was all he had. Kyle was putting his trust in Caleb, and the best Caleb could come up with was we’ll figure it out.

  “You don’t have—” Caleb started, but Kyle held up his hand.

  “Are you kidding? This will make a hell of a thesis paper.” Kyle grinned, but catching Caleb’s expression, the smile vanished. “Hey,” Kyle said, and the knot of tension at his first words released its hold on Caleb, but the lingering fear remained.

  “I don’t want to be just some story to you. All this . . .” Caleb waved his free hand. “This is my life. Cere’s life.”

  Kyle caught Caleb’s other hand and held it too. The gentle pressure of his fingers demanded Caleb’s full attention.

  “I’m sorry. I was just joking around. It’s . . .”

  “A lot.” Caleb echoed Cere’s words.

  Kyle nodded. Caleb could almost see him ordering his words before speaking again.

  “Look, I know this is . . . big. But I really do want to help, and I know you won’t ask. You’re damn stubborn that way.”

  Caleb’s throat tightened. His words had already proved inadequate, so he didn’t bother, pressing his mouth to Kyle’s instead. All the tension and strangeness of the past few days poured out in the kiss. Maybe he’d regret it tomorrow, but for now, the only thing he wanted was Kyle close to him, and he wouldn’t suggest leaving again for anything in the world.

  chapter three

  My daddy used to tell a story about a man who came to town, when he was a boy. Name of Reverend Rice, Reese, something like that. Said he’d come to save folks from the devil. He put up a big revival tent, invited everyone, but no one showed. Well, the reverend got all in a huff, left town saying they were all damned. Ten years later, another man comes to town calling himself the same name. Could have been the first man’s brother, maybe even his son.

  Since the first reverend left, there’d been a string of murders all the way down to New Orleans. Not just that. A whole mess of frogs came up out of the creek, filled up the roads, got on people’s porches, under their doors, into their beds and pantries and everything. Whole flocks of birds dropped dead out of the sky. No one doubted the devil anymore. You can bet the whole town showed up for the reverend’s sermon that day and any day after he cared to preach.

  —Myths, History, and Legends from the Delta to the Bayou (Whippoorwill Press, 2016)

  ***

  D

  el.” Cere clenched her jaw; her tone removed any lingering

  doubt Caleb might have had about the man in Holly DuBois’s picture.

  Caleb, Cere, and Rose clustered behind Caleb’s desk, looking at his laptop. Kyle slumped in one of the visitor chairs, restlessly playing with his phone. Cere wrapped her arms around her upper body, glaring at Del on the screen. Rose slipped out of the room and returned with a steaming cup of coffee.

  “It’s not great, but it’s better than nothing.” She handed it to Cere.

  Caleb had made the introductions, but Cere hadn’t offered to touch Rose the way she had Kyle. Even so, Rose seemed to recognize something in Cere, and the look she gave Caleb was one of reproach—like why didn’t you tell me about this sooner? He would definitely have to ask Rose about her war stories when all this was done. Assuming they survived.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Rose stuck her head out into the hall. A feeling of dread crept over Caleb, worsened by Rose’s expression as she stepped back into the room.

  “Wilson just got back from checking out Pine View. You were right, someone dug up Ellis Royce’s grave.”

  “Jesus.” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. After sharing his suspicion with Cere last night, he’d sent one of his officers to check the cemetery first thing this morning.

  He’d been expecting the result, but being right didn’t make him feel better. He could picture the grave. He’d visited it a few times, part of the ritual of reminding himself of everything that had happened. It stood on the edge of the cemetery, half-hidden by a shaggy pine. Caleb had never seen any evidence of anyone besides himself visiting. If he hadn’t sent Wilson to check, the dug-up earth might not have been noticed for weeks.

  “So that thing we saw in the woods really was a zombie?” Kyle sat up. “Like not in the classic sense but in the Walking Dead sense?”

  “My daddy’s magic.” Cere’s voice was grim.

  Caleb remembered when she’d thought she could reason with Ellis because he wasn’t like her father or Del. Had that sympathy burned away outside too?

  “Is that why Holly died?” At Rose’s voice, Caleb looked up.

  “Shit. I’m sorry.” He kept forgetting Rose had known her.

  The ache between his eyes grew. He thought again of his father, trying to shelter everyone, shoulder the burden alone. As far as following in his footsteps in that sense, Caleb was doing a shit job.

  “We have to find him,” Cere said.

  Caleb wasn’t sure whether she was talking about Ellis or Del, but it scarcely mattered. Del had evaded death twice now; Ellis had literally been returned from the grave. Now both were roaming Lewis. His town.

  Caleb’s whole body felt sore, pummeled, and he wanted to sleep for a week. He squared his shoulders.

  “Okay. We’ll start at the cemetery.”

  Caleb sat on the edge of the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. Kyle spoke without rolling over.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Okay as it can be with a grave-robbing killer on the loose.” He’d spent the last hour listlessly flipping through channels on the TV, trying to shut off his brain, so he could sleep. It hadn’t worked.

  Pine View Cemetery had been another dead end as were all the other haunts Cere could think of where Del and Ellis might hide. The entire day felt like a wild goose chase, and while they ran around after their own tails, Caleb hadn’t been able to shake the feeling Del was somewhere just out of sight, laughing at them.

  “Sorry.” Caleb breathed out. “Are you okay? How’s Cere?”

  “Asleep,” Kyle said. �
��I presume.”

  “Mpf.” Caleb let himself collapse onto the bed.

  He closed his eyes, knowing sleep wouldn’t come despite his bone-deep exhaustion. It wasn’t even a moment before the sound of shattering glass jerked him upright. Caleb stood, his pulse tripping double time, and grabbed the Glock from the holster slung over the back of a chair. Kyle followed him down the hall.

  “Cere?” Caleb paused outside her door, pistol braced.

  She didn’t answer. Caleb switched to a one-handed grip, opening the door with his free hand. The grey, melted creature from the woods had an arm wrapped around Cere’s throat, dragging her toward the window where spikes of broken glass clung to the sill.

  “Shit.” He had no clear shot.

  Caleb lowered his gun. Without turning his head, he spoke to Kyle over his shoulder, hoping to hell the creature that had been Ellis Royce was far enough gone he couldn’t understand him.

  “Get my baseball bat from the hall.”

  The creature cocked its head, but its slack, grey face showed no signs of comprehension. Kyle retreated into the hall. Caleb lifted his pistol again, but he still couldn’t get a clear shot. Cere dug her fingers into the arm wrapped around her throat. Chunks of flesh peeled off under her nails, but the grip didn’t slacken. That thing was Cere’s brother. The thought clanged against the logical part of Caleb’s mind, rolling around in his skull.

  In the face of impossibility, Caleb fixed on the solidity of Ellis. Shouldn’t he be rotted away by now? Was that more of Archie Royce’s magic? He pictured Archie or Del slowly poisoning Ellis over the years, not just his mind but his body, preparing him to become something else after death. A tool for them to use. As his mind spun on useless thoughts, Cere twisted in Ellis’s grip, speaking a word that turned the air black. Shadows writhed, and then suddenly she was in front of Caleb, her back to him like a shield.

  The creature lunged, and Cere shoved Caleb backward. The air thickened until he could barely see Cere or Ellis. Then Cere’s voice rang out, and the fog vanished.

  Kyle stood in front of Caleb, holding the aluminum baseball bat. Cere had managed to back them into the kitchen, but the thing that had been Ellis had followed them. It made a clumsy swipe for the bat.

  Caleb threw himself forward with a shout, catching Ellis around the knees. They hit the ground, rolling together and crashing into the wall. Ellis ended up on top, straddling him, dead weight holding Caleb down.

  Caleb finally got a good look at Ellis and wished he hadn’t. Ellis’s eye sockets were empty, but within the darkness, there was still a kind of intent, malicious and pained like a whipped dog driven mad with hurt. Ellis’s skin was grey ash, the remains of a campfire with the embers burned out. Amongst the burnt ruin, Caleb caught sight of pale scars, older markings. He thought again of Archie Royce preparing Ellis over the years, and sickness rose in the back of his throat. Ellis, Del, Cere—maybe the children who’d died had been the lucky ones.

  It was a sickening thought, and it sent a fresh surge of anger through him. Caleb clawed at Ellis’s arms, and a strip of flesh tore away, revealing ivory bone. Ellis didn’t falter, his grip impossibly strong as he wrapped his hands around Caleb’s throat. He leaned his weight forward, pressing on Caleb’s windpipe.

  Black spots burst in front of Caleb’s eyes, his ears roaring. He pawed at the hands holding him down, but he couldn’t get a grip. He thought of Kyle, his father, Cere, all the people he’d let down. All at once, the pressure vanished, and Ellis slumped sideways. Cere stood over them. A tendril of solid darkness, like smoke, folded itself back into her body.

  A gaping hole in the center of Ellis’s chest showed splinters of bone but nothing wet; all the meat had burned away years ago. Cere had punched right through him.

  “Oh fuck.” Caleb scrambled to his feet.

  Kyle reached them, throwing his arms around Caleb so hard Caleb wheezed.

  “Sorry.” Kyle let go. “Are you okay?”

  Caleb nodded. He touched his throat. Tomorrow it would be bruised.

  “You?”

  Kyle nodded. He kept an arm around Caleb’s waist as Cere knelt beside the remains of her brother.

  “I didn’t want it to be him.” Cere’s expression was complicated, caught between pity and looking like she wanted to spit on the corpse. “Del made him into a monster long before he made him into this.” Cere nudged Ellis’s corpse with her foot.

  “We’ll find Del.” Caleb’s voice was strained; his throat hurt. “I’ve got every available officer out looking.”

  “It won’t be enough.” Cere looked Caleb square in the eye. “If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be. I think he’s got someplace like the outside he can step into. Not the same place Catfish John took me, but someplace he can disappear.”

  Even though she was real and solid, standing in front of him, Caleb could still see the ghost-image of Cere from his dreams, a second self inside her skin. If it came to it, if it looked like Del was going to win, he knew what she would do. Cere crouched, slipping her arms under Ellis’s body.

  “What are you doing?”

  Cere shot him a look of impatience.

  “Taking care of things.”

  “I have to call it in.” Even as he said it, the idea of trying to explain Ellis’s death, re-death, seemed absurd.

  “Ellis has been dead for years.” Cere’s gaze pinned him. “His death certificate is on file.”

  “So what, we—”

  “We burn the body, close up the grave in Pine View, and you write whatever you want in your report.”

  Cere’s tone left no room for argument. Caleb thought of a conversation with his father a lifetime ago. He was in his father’s shoes now, arguing the side of the law. But that position only held if the world made sense, and right now, it didn’t.

  Kyle leaned against him, not saying anything but adding the solid comfort of his presence. Caleb took a deep breath. Whatever he’d professed to believe aloud, his father had still taken Cere in, smelling like ash, and never questioned how the fire started. He’d seen a girl who’d never had anything but hate to raise her, and he’d done everything he could to fill the hole where her family should have been. For all of his principles, his father had held one truth higher—family was bigger than the law.

  “Okay,” Caleb said. “We’ll follow your lead. Tell us what we need to do.”

  “We need to take Ellis home. Finish this where it started.”

  chapter four

  They burned him, hanged him, shot him. They even slit his throat and strung him up by his ankles, left him swinging from a tree for the crows to pick, left his fingers trailing in the water for the fish to eat. In every story I ever heard about Catfish John, he died. Painfully. Violently. Sometimes he was a monster, but sometimes, he was just a man.

  —Myths, History, and Legends from the Delta to the Bayou (Whippoorwill Press, 2016)

  ***

  R

  ose parked behind Caleb. He’d called her before they left,

  feeling guilty doing so but wanting her by their side. The wash of her headlights illuminated the tarp-wrapped bundle in the bed of Caleb’s truck before she killed the engine and climbed out of her car. Even in the dark, Caleb didn’t miss the grim set of her jaw.

  “I deserve a raise for this. And a promotion.”

  “You gunning for my job? You’re welcome to it.”

  The four of them stood in silence, listening to the tick of cooling engines and the chorus of night insects.

  “Let’s get this over with.” Caleb wiped his hands on his jeans and lowered the tailgate.

  Ellis’s body was surprisingly light as though whatever Del had done to bring him back had hollowed him out. Caleb climbed into the truck bed, and between the four of them, they wrestled the awkward bundle to the razed remains of Archie Royce’s house, just an empty pa
tch of land now.

  “Here.” Cere pointed. “It was his room.”

  Caleb wondered how she could tell, but of course, the house she’d been imprisoned in would be imprinted on her just the same as Archie Royce’s magic. As they carried his body, Caleb tried to picture Ellis as a child. Cere had said Ellis had been kind to her once. Maybe he’d even tried to protect her before Archie and Del killed every kind impulse in him.

  He helped Cere unwrap the body while Rose and Kyle stepped back. The stars looked down on them, bright and unforgiving.

  “He always wanted to be like Del.” Cere’s tone was thoughtful. “Even when he hated him, he looked up to him. He deserves better, but I want Del to see. If he wants me, he needs to do his own dirty work.”

  Cere’s lips peeled back from her teeth, a feral, pained expression. Under it, there was loss. The one thing that had the potential to be good in her life, and it had been corrupted and taken away from her. Caleb joined Kyle and Rose.

  Cere remained beside Ellis’s body, head bowed in concentration. After a moment, the air around her changed, wavering. Shadows curled around her like grey-black flames.

  Kyle tensed, and Rose moved toward Cere, but Caleb put a hand on her arm. Light flickered between Cere’s fingers. She touched them to Ellis’s body, and he burst into flame.

  “Jesus!” Heat bloomed toward them, and Caleb and Kyle both stepped back.

  “She’s going to kill herself.” Rose tried to shake Caleb off.

  “Wait.” Caleb tightened his grip on Rose’s arm. His pulse hammered, but he trusted Cere. “She knows what she’s doing.”

  Cere tipped her head back, keeping her hands pressed to Ellis’s body inside the fire but remaining unburned. Caleb felt the sound before he properly heard it—a low hum rising to something that wasn’t quite music. It was the lullaby Catfish John had sung the night he took Cere away. It was the mourning sound he’d heard Cere make, a keening wail and a soothing hush all at once.

  Caleb put his arm around Rose’s shoulders. He slid his other arm around Kyle’s waist. He almost bowed his head, but in the end, he settled for silently wishing for peace—for Ellis, for Cere, for them all.