The Serpent and the Light

by Bo Luellen

  The Doctor gave a sigh and replied, “And you, of course.”

  She waved her hand and responded quickly with, “Oh, no. I’m just tutoring Henry in my Religious Studies class. Occasionally, I’ll do my best to give direction and hints, but I’m not close to him. Being put on the emergency contact list is odd.”

  Dr. Taylor looked sad as he remarked, “He had Lewis Turner on the list as his first contact. Based on what you’ve just told me, I’m guessing he put you as a second because he didn’t know anyone else he could rely on.”

  A nurse in blue scrubs came into the waiting area and announced, “Doctor, Henry Jekyll is awake now.”

  Amanda picked up her purse from the floor and followed the pair to her student's room. She clutched her Bible at her chest, as her high heels clomped down the hallway and silently mouthed a prayer for him. A tall black man in a police uniform was sitting across from Henry’s door and gave a slight nod as she passed by.

  When they reached the room, the nurse knocked on the door, the Doctor announced, “Hello Henry, how are we feeling tonight?”

  Walking inside, she found his bed surrounded by machines, and an IV inserted in the back of his hand. Henry looked pale, and his eyes looked glazed over. His head was wrapped in gauze with a large pad pressing against the impact point on his skull. He looked like a mummy from the eyebrows up and seemed medicated.

  A shaky voice came from him, replying, “Okay, I guess. Where am I?”

  He pointed at his teacher and drunkenly exclaimed, “Oh, hey, Professor Lanyon! Hi! What are you doing here?”

  She approached his bedside and replied, “I’m here because you had me listed as your emergency contact at your work. How are you feeling?”

  He blinked a few times before responding with, “I’ve got a massive headache. I feel like someone is pounding drums in my ears.”

  The doctor picked up his chart and theorized, “That’s to be expected. You took a nasty fall and have been in a coma for most of the day. I’ve given you something for the pain, but you gave us quite a scare. You were having some trouble waking up.”

  He dropped the clipboard on the edge of his bed and remarked, “Henry, when we were treating you, I found evidence of severe head trauma. I believe that is the reason why you had such a tough time coming out of it.”

  He looked away with a wild look in his eyes and replied, “I suppose so. Can I go home?”

  Dr. Taylor checked his eyes and replied, “I wouldn’t advise it. We should keep you for observation.”

  Henry stared out of the dark window and replied, “I want to go home.”

  The physician gave a resigned, “I wouldn’t advise that. You have sustained a massive blow to the back of your head, and x-rays show you’ve had a history of head injuries. We need to keep you…”

  The young man shot a look over to the doctor and exclaimed, “I’m not staying!”

  With a series of nods, Dr. Taylor agreed, “Okay, we can’t force you to stay, but you’ll need someone to wake you up every two hours. If you start experiencing nausea or blurry vision, you’ve got to come back.”

  Henry reached over to his phone and replied, “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Amanda looked at the shaking hands of the young man and realized he was lucky to have come out of the coma at all. His trembling voice betrayed his genuine frustration, as seeing his deceased surrogate father was still taking its toll. As he worked the keys on his cell, she watched as teardrops rolled off his cheeks and onto his white gown.

  She touched his arm and asked, “Would you like for me to give you a ride home? Can I call someone to come over to your house and watch over you?”

  A strange look came over his face, and he moved his head slowly to one side as if Henry was searching the room for something. Jekyll's eyes glazed, as his face was transfixed upon the holy cross nailed to his wall. Moments later, he turned his head and looked at her as if he was returning from some lost thought.

  He replied, “I messaged Juste and Dallas to come to pick me up. One of them can stay with me.”

  The nurse informed them, “I’ll get him released within the hour.”

  He adjusted the hospital bracelet on his wrist and conveyed, “Juste is at the shop. I can call him to pick me up. He can be here in an hour.”

  Amanda sat down and waited on his friends to arrive, then messaged her husband she would be late. As the minutes passed by, she listened to the sobbing of Jekyll at the loss of his friend. She bowed her head and prayed for the young man, as his grief filled the room.

  The nurse came back in, examined Henry, and observed, “Hey, look at that. You’re looking better already. Your color is returning, and your vitals are strong. You’re a resilient guy.”

  Amanda looked up from her phone and noticed that his face was no longer pale and was fully lucid. His hands had stopped shaking, and Henry’s eyes weren’t glazed over anymore. She glanced at her watch and saw only twenty minutes had passed, then raised an eyebrow at how quickly the young man had recovered.

  He looked up at the nurse and replied, “Yeah, I mean, I feel clearer. Like, there was a fog over my head, but it’s gone.”

  Amanda took stock of his demeanor, If he had anything to do with the death of his boss, it’s not showing. That didn’t say much though, as a narcissistic sociopath would have no remorse or could create a delusional version of the past events. His mother would resize reality to fit her own twisted agenda. Maybe, that is what’s happening now? Had he actually slipped and fell, or had he done this to himself to avoid questioning? Perhaps he didn’t’ have anything to do with his boss’s death, but maybe he was using it as sympathy.

  Turning the Bible in her hand to some random page, she explored, “Henry, the police told me what happened to Mr. Turner. They seem to think there is some foul play. What’s going on, son?”

  She stayed perfectly still and made firm eye contact as she thought, Just state the facts, don’t lead him down any single path, use a motherly vernacular and let him open up. Calling him son might activate his obedience and control systems his family put into his psyche. It’s a dirty trick, but this is a critical moment in his life. If he is mixed up in something, the truth needs to come out so I can help him.

  He took a deep breath and replied, “They found Lewis under the bridge next to work. I don’t know how he got there. The cops came to the shop and told us. Detective Utterson had me go with him to identify the body.”

  Amanda cocked her head to one side, saying, “Why would they do that? Did he not have a wallet on him?”

  A tear came down out of his red eyes as he answered, “He had his wallet, just not his head. The way he landed put his neck across the tracks. The wheel took it smooth off. The police looked for it, but couldn’t find it. That is why they needed someone’s help. His daughter Riley was out of town with his ex-wife. The woman wouldn’t come back to identify the body, and Riley is too young to see her dad like that. So, they asked me.”

  She watched him as he recounted the gruesome details from his visit to the morgue. She already had these facts from the police, and she listened carefully to Henry to see if what he said lined up. He left out the one detail that defined why homicide was involved, which caused her suspicions to grow.

  She hit quickly with, “What about the stab wound in his back? Who would want to murder Mr. Turner?”

  His head popped up in visible disbelief as he asked, “What do you mean “stabbed?”

  She leaned in, “Do you understand what I’m saying? Lewis Turner was murdered.”

  He replied, “Why? That makes no sense. He never hurt anyone.”

  Leaning back slightly, she remarked, “The police have a lot more questions, Henry. If you know anything, you need to do the right thing and speak up. If you are going to change the course of your life, you have to make better choices. Your closest friend is one step from being homeless. Your family is worse for you than jail. If you really want to live for God, you have to redefine who you are. Lies,
manipulation, and weakness is the thread from which your family has been sown. You have a fairly good chance of amounting to little more than a fading memory simply by the nature of your being. You avoid taking any real risks that could make you successful because you are afraid of being called a failure. Regardless of what choices you make, each day, you must wake up and face the awful truth that you are your parents’ son. Your first instinct will always be to act like them. No one is born righteous. It is like a muscle that you must exercise and develop. Henry, this is your chance to unravel your essence, and start the slow process towards an honorable design.”

  He nodded meekly and replied, “Okay.”

  She got up and agreed, “Okay, then.”

  With that, Amanda gathered her purse and walked out the door. The young man gave her a wave, with his IV dangling off his wrist, and Lanyon gave him a half-smile back. Once the door closed behind her, she let out a long breath and felt the gravity of the moment.

  The Professor took a moment, For all I know, I just talked to someone involved in a murder. How am I going to explain this to Larry?

  She caught sight of the Tulsa Police Officer still sitting in his chair across from Jekyll’s door. He was a good looking black man with a large build and brown eyes that seemed to sparkle with life. He stood up and towered over her by well over a foot and stuck out his hand to her.

  As she shook his hand, he introduced himself, “I’m Officer Terry Johnston with the TPD, and you are?”

  She batted a stray hair out of her face, then replied, “Professor Amanda Lanyon, I’m one of Henry’s teachers at Eastland. Is he under arrest for some reason?”

  He waved his hand and replied, “Not at all. I’ve been assigned to watch over Henry Jekyll and make sure he gets home safe. He took a nasty spill, and the Department wants to make sure he gets the care he needs. Is he awake in there?”

  She tucked her purse under her arm and answered, “Yes, he came around just a bit ago. If you are looking to talk to him, this is a good time. Is he in any trouble?”

  He looked at Henry’s door and divulged, “I just got word from the station that we were able to verify his story. The Uber driver had a record of his ride from Lewis Turner’s house to Henry Jekyll’s apartment. So, I think he is in the clear.”

  Amanda let a smile sneak out and hailed, “Oh, praise God. That is great news, but what about Lewis Turner? Was he murdered or not?”

  He looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was in earshot, then replied, “There was definitely foul play. The victim had a puncture wound that we believe was from a knife. One of our detectives spotted a suspect retrieving what we assume was the weapon used.”

  She replied with a concerned look, “Spotted? You mean he isn’t in custody?”

  Terry lowered his head a little, answering, “No, Ma’am. The suspect got away. The detective was one of our senior officers and hurt himself trying to keep up.”

  Amanda touched his arm and remarked, “So, Henry wasn’t involved?”

  Johnston’s voice became deeper as he replied, “Oh, no. It looks like our suspect was a homeless person who probably attempted to mug Turner. We will find him. Detective Utterson got a good look at the blade the suspect took from the crime scene, and it’s not one your average run of the mill knives. It has unusual markings that will make it easy to track down if it shows up in a pawn shop or ditched in the area.”

  Curiosity took hold as she followed up, asking, “What exactly did this knife look like?”

  He held his hands open and nine inches apart, replying, “This thing was huge. It had a black handle with some kind of weird symbol carved into the hilt and a curved blade that was etched with more markings.

  She suddenly took sharp notice of a detail asking, “Wait, etched markings? What kind of symbol?”

  The officer shrugged his shoulders, “Some kind of funky symbol. A messed-up octopus monster, I think. Why?”

  She looked down, searching her memory, and replied, “It reminds me of something I read a long time ago.”

  He made a dismissive gesture with his hand and grunted, “Well, it is probably just some cracked out hobo looking for fix money. He probably lifted the thing out of the trash.”

  She nodded slowly then retorted, “A hobo that successfully hid a murder weapon and then avoided capture.”

  Terry smiled and replied, “Well, Professor, I wouldn’t give the situation that much credit. The perp avoided capture from a very old and broken down Detective. I think one of my nephews could outrun John.”

  Amanda gave him a courtesy smile as he continued, “Now, I’d better go check on Jekyll. It was nice talking to you, Professor.”

  She told him goodnight and watched him march into Henry’s room. Turning to walk out, she said a silent prayer for the investigators and Lewis Turner’s family. She pulled her hand up to the cross that hung around her neck and let out a slow relaxing breath as she settled herself back out of teacher mode.

  Walking out into the cold night air, she thought, That took forever, and I haven’t seen my kids today. That stack of papers can be graded tomorrow. I don’t need to be a walking zombie in class. I’ll push through lunch, and I’ll be back to my routine by Thursday.

  Sliding into her Subaru Outback, she looked down at the steering wheel and stared at the star-shaped logo. It brought her back to the octopus symbol the officer had mentioned and she again felt the twinge of memory tickling her thoughts. Shaking her head, she started the car and pulled out onto the highway. She reached for her cell and dialed “Husband.”

  Her burly-voiced spouse answered, “Hey! So do I need to get you bail money, or do I need to challenge someone to a duel?”

  Amanda couldn’t help but laugh as she answered, “Maybe, both. I’m on my way home.”

  Ten minutes later, she pulled up into the garage of their modest home and walked into the kitchen to see a ham and cheese melt sitting on a plate. Next to it was a glass of ice tea and a handwritten note on a napkin that said, “You’re taking a picture of this and posting it to Instagram with the hashtag “besthusbandever.” She smiled, took a bite of the sandwich, put it back on the plate, and did just that.

  She took her dinner to their bedroom, where she found her husband pretending to be asleep. Putting the plate of food down on the nightstand, she plunged her fingers ruthlessly into his ribs. He let out a high pitched scream and dragged her into bed. After a few minutes of roughhousing, the two settled into an embrace and held one another.

  He gazed into her eyes, saying, “I never should have married you. You make everyone sad around you.”

  She put her chin on his arm, replying, “You will die alone. You have a horrible attitude, and the only thing you’re good at is how depressed you make me feel.”

  He stared at her for a long time then remarked with a smile, “You think I’m good at something?”

  They laughed again, then made out some more on the king-size bed as she asked, “How was work today?”

  He muscled his 6-foot 2-inch frame off the bed and lumbered over to the closet as he replied, “It was good. My boss didn’t show up again today, I had to re-image all the laptops for the science department. I think Eastland needs to just get rid of him.”

  Amanda gave him a half-smile as replied, “Good luck on that. Greyson Dunn performed the man’s wedding. They still air clips of that on his infomercials.”

  He waved off the notion and replied, “God-schmod. If Eastland didn’t pay so well, I would have found somewhere else to work. Self-righteous hypocrites who don’t even follow their own imaginary deity’s orders. It’s all a political game of “I’m more godlike than you.” I’d love to see their faces when they die and find out there is nothing waiting on them.”

  She shook her head and observed, “I can’t believe I married an atheist.”

  He flexed his bicep in front of her and replied, “It was all the awesome sex. You love my heathen penis and its wicked ways.”

  She rolled out of bed
and gave him a kiss as she squeezed past his 400-pound girth. With a little hop, she snagged a small black bag from the top shelf. Plopping herself back down on the bed, she unzipped it and revealed an ounce of marijuana and some shiny paraphernalia.

  As she loaded a decorative pipe, Amanda asked, “Are you and the girls going to be able to make it to the marathon next weekend?”

  He reached into the closet and pulled out three pink shirts on hangers that said, “Team Lanyon.” Amanda let out a little squeal at the effort her family had gone to support her. She opened her arms wide and gave him a huge hug.

  After they took a few hits from the bowl, she dug back into her sandwich as Larry asked, “So, your pet school project passes in front of cops, and you’re on the emergency contact list, huh?”

  She choked down a piece of sandwich, answering, “Well, it went better than expected. Turns out that at least the guy wasn’t guilty of murder.”

  Larry’s eyebrows raised and scrutinized, “Okay, that part you left out.”

  She put a hand on his chest, saying, “I didn’t know until after I got there.”

  He clicked a lighter as she continued, “I gave the kid one of my talks. When I left, I found out from a very nice police officer that his alibi panned out.”

  Larry inhaled a long drag and quipped, “Oh, goodie! We avoided being involved in a murder investigation. I know you look at your job as a calling from your imaginary bearded white guy in the clouds, but this was way outside of tutoring.”

  She took a long drag herself and admitted, “You might have a point. You know, there’s one thing the cop told me that I can’t get out of my head. The description of the knife used on Lewis Turner reminded me of something Josh taught us. Something about an Octopus god.”

  Larry rolled his glazed eyes and replied, “I wouldn’t put much stock into what he said. Do you know what my teammates on the football team used to call him?”

  Amanda gave a complacent, “Dopehead Dyer.”

  He tipped his pipe at her and continued, “That guy made a pot smoker look like a saint. I still can’t believe he talked you into LSD, and look at you now, a God-fearing Christian woman. I bet that creep still looks you up on Facebook.”