by K. Massari
She could not let it go. She could not stop fighting for her salvation and for that of the murdered children …
What he was supposed to do with love, Larry was fighting with venom and hatred. Poor Valeria, Wallace thought sadly, closing the door behind him. He walked slowly towards the sidewalk, and the building sat on the prim and proper lawn still. He walked down the street in a daze, turning left, and left again, circling the block, and when he entered Chestnut Avenue from the other side, indeed, the sign read Hayes, and Larry Goode had his construction hard hat on, ready for action.
He grinned broadly when he saw Wallace and tipped his hat. Wallace folded his hands as if in prayer. Then Larry returned to his workers and his machinery, giving them a GO sign. Wallace could only watch.
Is Valeria buried on this land, he wondered as he stumbled along. He ran to catch a bus, but the bus did not wait for him. So he was left standing in the street, and sat down morosely on the bench beneath the bus stop sign. As the cars drove past, he felt lost, and worried this day would pass like so many others. There was nothing he could do to stop all the viciousness in the neighborhood.
When he heard a child’s giggling and laughter, he thought immediately of the girls in their pretty summer dresses, piled in the wheelbarrow like ragdolls. He saw a face and did not realize this was reality.
“Hey, Wally, are you okay? You look tired …” Esmeralda said. She knew Wallace didn’t know her too well. He might not recognize her voice, but he had seen her on occasion.
“I’m Danny’s girl, remember?” she asked, staring at him.
He nodded. Then he smiled at the baby daughter in her stroller as she stretched her arms out at him. He took her tiny hand and held it up with one finger.
How precious, he thought. He looked up at Esmeralda, who was watching him carefully. It was the look of people who doubt your sanity.
“Have you seen her?” he asked.
“Who, the ghost?” quipped Esmeralda, with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“Once,” she answered, seemingly annoyed.
“She was beautiful,” she added, in a voice barely audible.
“Yeah,” said Wallace, agreeing.
“Was it in a dream?” he asked.
“Hmmh … you know, I can’t say for sure.”
Esmeralda’s face lit up. She liked to think she had seen something special, an apparition.
“It was on the beach. Danny likes to hang out there … but so do you, right?”
Wallace nodded. He wished he had a cigarette. He did not smoke often. He smoked for emphasis, sometimes. This was a special conversation. He could tell.
“I had gone into the bushes to pee …” Esmeralda waved a guilty hand and laughed.
“When I come out, Danny is arguing with this beautiful woman, she looks like an actress, like a movie star! I can’t believe how Danny knows a woman like that. Then she sees me and smiles, this dazzling smile. It just lights up the entire place, there’s such a warmth to it.”
Esmeralda was fighting back the tears. A bus was approaching, visible under the trees many blocks away.
“You know what, Wally?”
“What?”
“I think she’s an angel.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. ‘Cause that’s how she makes me feel. Deep inside. In my heart.”
They both watched the bus as the little girl started to fidget in her stroller.
“They say she is a demon, leader of other demons, tearing this neighborhood down to hell with her … but that isn’t the case.”
“I love her.”
“A lot of people do, Wallace. A lot of people love her.”
The bus came, opened its doors. Neither she nor Wallace got on. The driver mumbled something, then closed the doors and drove off.
They both stared into space. It was the baby that brought them back. She was giggling, and stretching her arms out. As Esmeralda and Wallace looked up and across the street, at what might be fascinating the baby so, they both saw Valeria, dressed in red, her shiny black curls waving in the wind.
“It is so hard to tell, so hard to understand,” Esmeralda said, shaking her head slowly.
Wallace stood up. “I believe her …” But in his voice, there was doubt, and weakness.
Then Valeria was gone. The baby fell asleep.
“What do we do?” asks Esmeralda, suddenly confused, no longer certain.
“Pray?” whispered Wallace.
They were both silent. It began to rain, as a church tower bell chimed noon.
“You used to have a car, didn’t you, Wally?” asks Esmeralda, chewing her lip.
“Yeah. I used to have a lot of things.”
“What happened?”
Before he could answer, Danny drove past, then stopped and put his car in reverse.
“So get in,” he said, “it’s raining. The kid will catch her death …”
Wallace and Esmeralda stood frozen in place. The child was still asleep.
“What? … what’s the matter with you?” Danny scolded, banging on the steering wheel.
“Do you have a phone?” Wallace asked Esmeralda.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Get us a cab. I still have some money. We can share.”
Danny sped off, cussing: “You’ll be sorry. Both of you!”
Chapter 17
Esmeralda fumbled with her phone, as the baby woke up and started to cry. She called a car service, while Wallace took the baby out of the stroller to comfort her.
“Thanks, Wally …” Esmeralda said as she opened her umbrella, lifting it to encompass her new friend and her baby daughter. Wallace smiled and so did Esmeralda.
Within minutes, the driver pulled up, and Wallace heaved himself down into the passenger seat. Esmeralda was on the back seat, with the baby, and the folded stroller went into the trunk. When Esmeralda looked up from buckling her seat belt, she caught a glimpse of the driver’s eyes in the rearview mirror, and to her utter dismay, she recognized hyena features in the face, mottled fur, rounded ears; in her mind’s eye, she saw him grabbing her hair at the back of her head and yanking hard. She cringed, but vowed not to let on what she just saw. Wallace looked straight ahead; for the most part, he was tired and oblivious to the danger next to him. They were headed to the shopping mall, the three of them quiet. Only the baby cooed and babbled softly.
The driver made a wrong turn, and Esmeralda and Wallace initially did not notice. Esmeralda could not shake an uneasy feeling the drive was taking longer than it should have. Only when the car turned into the street where Harold lived, passing Larry Goode’s house, did Wallace’ head jerk to the left, to glare at the laughing hyena face staring back at him.
He composed himself and asked:
“What’s wrong? Why can’t you just drive to the mall?”
“I wanted to show you something …”
He drove down Harold’s street. He slowed, letting them take in the details. A crew was busy walking things out of the house into vans.
“Danny was going to hire you to help, but … You’ve been such a pain in the ass lately.”
Danny waved to the driver, the driver waved back.
“They’re tearing down parts of your brother’s house.”
Neither Wallace nor Esmeralda said anything. The driver made a complete turn in the driveway and headed back, past Goode’s house.
“Can you take me to Ray Lighthill’s?” Wallace asked.
“You don’t want to go there.”
“Why?”
“Man’s dead.”
“What?”
The driver ignored him. When they were two blocks away, he looked arrogantly at Wallace.
“Some vagrant who was camping out in the basement killed him with a knife after beating him up.”
Wallace felt as if the same kind of knife had just been thrust into his chest.
“It’s a crime scene now.”
“How
do you know?”
“I know, that’s all.”
“You people know everything, don’t you …” Esmeralda said from the back seat.
The driver’s face started to twitch. Small patches of fur sprouted. Wallace was tempted to think of Lon Chaney, Jr. And he remembered the murder the night he went to Harold’s house.
As the hyena drove faster and faster, it managed to say:
“The last day has come. There is nothing you can do.” … in a voice no longer human.
“Everyone wonders just exactly what you are. And … where you came from.”
Esmeralda stared into the inside rearview, watching for the creature’s reaction.
Wallace shifted in the car seat, ready to lose his composure.
“I think I know who and what most of them are.”
For an instant, the car swerved. The hyena-creature turned back into a regular-looking cab driver.
“Oh, really?” asked Esmeralda.
“What are you talking about?”
Wallace sighed, fighting tears. Pointing a finger in the direction of the nose of the car, he said:
“Let’s just go to the mall, shall we?”
The driver was quiet. They drove in a hostile and awkward silence.
When he let them out, he drove off, without asking for the fare.
“What was that all about?” asked Esmeralda.
Wallace waved a hand. He brushed off his clothing, took a deep breath, and pinched the baby lovingly in the cheek.
“I will tell you. Eventually. Hey, Esmeralda, I have a request.”
“Anything, Wally.”
“Please meet me at the beach tonight?”
“Okay.”
“I need you to be there. And I need anyone who is willing to pray with me.”
“You need more people?”
“As much support as I can get.”
“Okay.”
Chapter 18
After they had exchanged their goodbyes, it took all of Wallace’ strength not to double over in pain and anguish over Ray Lighthill’s death. It hurt so very much. And deep inside, he knew Lighthill had been the second breaker, not Harold, and in knowing that, he hurt again, because he had wished Harold had done something … to stop being Harold, the strange, coldhearted man that he was.
Wandering aimlessly around the shopping mall, a place he usually enjoyed being if not for the food alone, he tried to put the loose pieces together and make sense of what was happening.
Danny would not come to his rescue this time, providing him with work, a kind word, a ride. Danny was somehow involved over a bloodline; his grandfather had been a part of it. And a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach told Wallace that he and his brother were involved, too. He could not quite comprehend whether they were similar to their ancestors, or reliving a story again and again without actually dying. Wallace could imagine Larry had never really died.
He decided to treat himself to a frozen yoghurt and a diet Snapple. He drummed his fingers on the plastic table of the shopping mall dining area. He wanted to see Valeria again. He missed her, and if he concentrated on that feeling, the other feelings went away. If only she were just a woman, not a spirit with a mission.
As he was lost in his thoughts, someone knocked on the table to knock him out from his reverie. It was Danny, grinning, not quite as friendly as usual.
“Hey, man, you are like drinking a diet Snapple, as in diet anything?” he quipped.
“Go ahead, make fun of me and my weight,” replied Wallace, trying hard not to like Danny the way he always had.
“I’m not making fun of you.”
“Aren’t you working the hyena crew? Wasn’t there something about a hyena laugh?” Wallace asked, drinking the last drop of his diet Green Tea Snapple as if it were champagne. It was his turn to be rude and venomous.
“You don’t get laid a lot, so you fell for her real fast.” Danny said, without a hint of his usual compassion.
“Well, doesn’t that explain everything!”
“Why don’t you come and apologize to Larry, and you can work with us again.”
“What?” shouted Wallace and stood up so quickly, he knocked the Snapple over, and some of it splashed onto Danny’s shirt and into his lap.
“You made a mistake, Wallace. A fucking mistake.”
Wallace glared at him.
“She was a whore, and she practiced black magic. Satanism. She haunts our streets and makes our lives miserable.”
Wallace considered making a dive for Danny’s throat. He watched as Danny got more napkins and cleaned the table. He was shaking.
“You are being misled. You’re too gullible to realize it.”
“No,” Wallace insisted. “No!”
“Larry is taking care of everything. She won’t be able to come back into this world … anymore.”
“Larry? Larry is taking care of it, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Larry is GOODE,” Danny insisted. “Just like the name implies. He is the good guy. You got it all wrong, Wallace. Seriously. Your hormones ran away with you.”
Wallace looked at the large Burger King sign. A lot of coffee and something greasy would probably do the trick for his nerves. Were they right? Was Valeria some sort of manipulating demon? What would happen if he let the next 24 hours slide, if he just let it all go?
There would be more deaths, more cruelty, and a never-ending cycle of barbarism.
“You don’t know that …” said Danny, as if he could read his mind.
“You don’t know a thing.”
Wallace braced himself for a confrontation. He sat back down, avoiding the eyes of the other people having breakfast, who had started to watch the two of them.
“Danny, whatever it is, my family was torn apart. Harold has become a monster. He kicked me out. And … what happened to my dear friend Ray …”
Wallace let out a sob.
“He was the only one who helped me … who was willing to give me a try.” And then:
“Is he dead?”
“Yes, he is,” answered Danny. “He won’t be causing any more trouble, either. And that’s why it’s so important for you to apologize to Larry Goode. So you will at least have an alibi. You can’t tell the police you were at an Italian restaurant having pasta with a prostitute who is 150 years dead.”
Wallace said nothing.
“Yeah, pasta,” he muttered, momentarily defeated.
Then the tears started to roll, he couldn’t help it. Through the blur of salty water, he saw Danny’s features twist and contort, the hyena was evolving, brought forth even in this environment (a busy shopping mall) by the pain in Wallace’ face. He imagined the hyena creature killing the real Danny in the car or on the beach, without emotion, without scruple, and the Danny he saw now was only an outward costume. The demon within was in control.
Again, the nagging doubt, was Valeria the lead demon? Or their victim?
Wallace was tired. He needed out. He would get on a train and leave the neighborhood. He wouldn’t bother with it all. By nightfall he would be in another state. He was tired of solving other people’s problems.
It was then that he saw Ray standing over by the health food stand. Wallace could see him clearly. And he knew from the warm feeling in his heart Ray had been the second breaker. The warm feeling turned to a hot feeling, to passion, to truth. Danny snarled.
“You don’t like that, do you?” muttered Wallace.
Danny changed back instantly to the suave, charismatic South American immigrant with a sexy, devil-may-care smile. Wallace knew he would miss him. They were enemies now, as Danny was host to a vicious hyena creature which was taking over more and more of the original Danny’s personality as the clock neared midnight of the third day.
“You have to turn the girls over to the police,” Wallace said, his voice cracking with emotion.
“What?” exploded Danny.
“They need to be buried.�
�
Danny stared straight ahead. “It’s too late.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Larry is taking care of it.”
“No, not before midnight tonight. He can’t. He has to wait.”
And, with all the courage he could muster:
“He has to wait for ME.”
“Why would you be different?”
“Because … it’s time to come clean.”
“There is no such thing. That will never happen.”
Wallace again noticed the other patrons looking in their direction. He also noticed many of them had changed, they looked less like human beings, and more like spotted hyenas with bloody teeth.
“Yes, there is such a thing.”
“What if we just kill you here and now? Or wait until you turn your back when you walk out the fucking door. Huh?”
“Because you and your evil ways are not the end of it. If it were that simple, Goode would have destroyed all the evidence years ago, and the whole show would have been over and done - after the battle with the first breaker. There is something that binds you to this three day agreement, the way it binds me.”
Danny said nothing. His lips were thin and purple. They sat there, neither talking, while the other people around them changed back into retired men and women, and housewives and employees of the various mall stores. Another day in America, with demons, hyenas and angels.
“And martyrs and saints,” added Wallace for good measure, if only to see the sour expression on Danny’s face.
“Since when are you so holy, fat guy?”
“Since someone taught me what love is.”
“So it’s no longer pizza and junk food, and waiting for your family to feed you.”
“No. It’s so much more now.
“Fuck you.”
“I will miss Danny. He was …”
Wallace never got to finish the sentence, because Danny - or what was left of him - knocked over his coffee intentionally, and stormed off.
“… a real good friend, a cool cat.”
Wallace again felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes, he shielded them with his hands.
Today was the start of something new … or it would be … the last day of his life.
Chapter 19
Wallace knew he had gone a little too far. He could feel the tension build in the air around him. The evil that had controlled the neighborhood for so long had finally hit upon a boundary. Wallace had been looking for love all of his life; Valeria was now the source of this, his greatest love. Together, they could beat all the bad things.
