by Jay Bower
“Mom said I needed to be ready. She…she said I might be the one. I don’t wanna be the one, Mr. O’Shea. I don’t!” He wrapped his arms around Patrick and sobbed.
“Shh, shh. It’s ok, son.” Patrick consoled him as best he could, not knowing what he meant. He thought for a moment. “Eric? What do you mean?” Eric pulled back and stared at Patrick.
“The sacrifice, Mr. O’Shea. Don’t you know?” He fell back into Patrick’s chest and sobbed again. Benny walked back toward them.
“Benny, what the hell is he talking about?” Patrick asked. Alarms went off in his head. The pain in his stomach grew intense. “Sacrifice? What does that mean?”
“Patty, it’s nothing. I think he might be a little upset and delusional. We need to get him back to his mother. Poor thing musta lost some of his wits out here.”
“Why would he be out here in the middle of the night, freezing and worried about some sacrifice?” Patrick’s voice rose. He heard blood pounding in his ears.
“I said,” Benny started, “that it was nothing, Patty.” He spat out his wad of chew. “Now, let’s get him home,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I don’t wanna go home, Mr. O’Shea,” Eric said through his tears. “I don’t want to be the one!” The boy struggled to break free, but Patrick held onto the boy tightly.
“Shh, it’s okay, Eric. Hey, why don’t we take you to the hospital and get you checked out?” Eric squirmed and almost broke free before Benny stepped in and grabbed hold of him.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Benny said. Patrick watched as Benny picked the boy up like it was nothing and walked back toward the car. For an old man, he had a reserve of strength.
Patrick didn’t trust him. He followed them at a distance, his hand resting on the butt of his gun, ready to draw if needed, waiting for Benny to do something horrible. He had a sick feeling in his gut. The old man would pay if he did anything to harm Eric. He’d shoot him right there in the field if it came to it.
Benny turned. “Come on, let’s get him out of here. And you can get your hand off that gun. He ain’t gonna hurt ya.”
Patrick slowed his pace. He needed to get to the bottom of this, and quickly. Brownsville was turning out to be very peculiar.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
PATRICK AND BENNY DROPPED off Eric at home. The boy trembled as they handed him over to Sara. She smiled and thanked them as she took Eric in her arms, enfolding him with her hug. As soon as Patrick and Benny got back in their car, Patrick let him have it.
“All right, Benny, tell me what the hell is going on. Now!”
“Now, quit gettin' your panties in a bunch. The boy is just hallucinating. Happens all the time. Kids start seeing things that aren’t there, or they make up some story like this. Didn’t you say your own son made things up? Just let it go, will ya?” He turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. Patrick fumed in his seat, unable to control his temper. He beat his fist on the armrest.
“Damn it, there’s something seriously wrong around here! What’s going on?” His face turned red and he felt control slipping away as the anger took hold of him. “Benny, I’ve seen some really weird shit since I’ve been here. And Noah…he’s had several incidents that defy logic. I’m tired of chalking it up to imagination. There’s something off with this place. I know you know about it! Don’t even try to lie to me!”
Benny slammed on the brakes, skidding on the gravel road.
“Look here, boy, you have no idea what you’re trying to get yourself into. It’s best if you leave it alone. Don’t go stickin’ your damn city boy nose in.” He shook his finger at Patrick as he spoke. “Do you understand me, Patty? There ain’t nothing for you to worry about. Things happen. We deal with it. We have since Nathaniel Browne’s time, and we’ll continue to do so. Now shut up about it, or I’m gonna drop you off right here.”
Patrick was silent. Benny shoved a wad of chew in his mouth and tossed the package on the seat. The car lurched forward as he violently shifted the car in gear and floored the accelerator.
“I want my family to be safe, Benny. That’s why we moved here. Why are things so crazy? What’s happening?” Patrick asked in a quiet voice. Benny focused straight ahead. Patrick shook his head and leaned against the window. Finally, Benny pulled into the garage at the department.
“I may start my vacation a day earlier. I’ll let you know. See ya, Patty,” Benny said as Patrick got out.
Benny peeled out. Patrick ran his hand through his hair. “Man, what a night,” he said out loud.
Patrick got in his car and started the short drive home. He was still on edge and didn’t want to have a blow up with Meagan. Even though she’d been in such a better mood lately, he feared sooner or later she would erupt, not that she had a history of it. Maybe once or twice, she was out of control, but the way she was so complacent lately felt odd to him, she was overcompensating for something. In his experience, those were the people who snapped and ended up doing something horrible, and when they interviewed family and friends, they all said how the person was so nice and not capable of the unspeakable event. But he knew better. He loved Meagan dearly. He wanted to be with her until they were old and gray, and then some. He only hoped it was nothing more than a false alarm. In any case, he needed to unwind before going home.
He stopped by Martha’s for a quick breakfast and a cup of coffee. He walked inside and saw Virgil sitting at a table by himself. He hesitated a moment and then approached him, a faint pain growing in his gut. “This seat taken?” he asked. Virgil looked up from the newspaper.
“Patrick! No, no its not. Please, have a seat.” He motioned for Patrick to join. He sat opposite Virgil. “How’s it going?” Virgil’s smile was friendly and genuine.
“Well, okay, I guess. It’s been a long night.” The waitress stopped and jotted an order for his favorite three-egg all-meat omelet with hash browns and coffee.
“A long night, you say?” Virgil replied after the waitress left.
“Yeah. Eric, Noah’s friend, was wandering alone in Watt’s field. He seemed pretty shook up.” Virgil nodded. He didn’t say anything. “Well, let’s just say he was afraid of his mom. Or at least afraid of what she said he needed to do, or something like that. I’m really not sure what was going on in his mind.” The waitress dropped off his coffee. He added creamer and took a sip. The flavors danced around his mouth and reassured him all was well in the world. The warm liquid thawed his insides.
Patrick checked around and leaned in toward Virgil. In a quiet voice, he asked, “Virg, what do you know about a sacrifice? Eric said something and I’m just dumbfounded.” Virgil leaned back in his chair and let out a low whistle.
“A sacrifice, you say? Hmmm. Were you with Benny last night?”
Patrick furrowed his eyebrows, “Yeah. He’s my partner. For now.”
Virgil gave an approving nod. “He didn’t tell you anything? Nothing at all?” Virgil crossed his arms and listened.
Patrick shook his head. “No, he told me to leave it alone and let things be.”
Virgil sipped his coffee before he replied. “Patrick, we can’t talk about it here right now. Do you work tonight?”
“No,” Patrick said shaking his head. “I have tonight off. The next two nights, actually.”
“Good. You come by the library tonight around nine, right before closing. Come alone. This time, listen to what I’m trying to tell you.” Patrick’s face twisted into confusion. “Patrick, do stop by. It’s in your best interest.” Virgil stood, leaving half his plate of biscuits and gravy unfinished. “It’s in the best interest of your son, too,” Virgil said. He paused. “Goodbye, Patrick. Hope to see you later.”
“Yeah, sure, Virg.” He watched as Virgil walked slowly out the cafe and headed down the street to the library. He ate his breakfast in silence, nodding to a few regulars as they came in. He recognized many of the people of Brownsville by sight now. He didn’t know all their names, bu
t in the time spent with Benny, he’d been introduced to just about everyone in town. Still, he felt lonely in the cafe. He felt more alone now than when he lived in the city, and he never thought that could be possible. The breakfast satisfied him, and he drove home in silence while his mind worked through the details.
Meagan kissed him at the door. She asked about his night and he told her about Eric. She comforted him when she saw the confusion on his face.
“It’s all right, dear. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” She gave him a big hug. “I know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately and the move hasn’t exactly been the easiest transition. I’ll take Noah for the morning to let you sleep. When I get back, we’ll have lunch together and maybe we can catch a movie. He’s been bugging me about the latest something or other; I don’t remember the name. Anyway, go to sleep. We’ll talk later.” He walked into their bedroom where she already had the bed turned down and ready for him. He smiled to himself and slid under the covers.
Patrick couldn’t sleep. His mind careened. In his exhausted state, nothing made sense. He tried to convince himself he needed to rest, but his mind wouldn’t stop taunting him with an unsolvable puzzle. After tossing and turning for half an hour, he gave up. He got out of bed and plopped himself down on the couch in front of the television. The rest of the day went by in a blur. They never did go see a movie, and he barely remembered talking to Noah or Meagan.
Before he knew it, it was almost nine and he was on his way to the library. He told Meagan he needed to do research for work. She didn’t pry, and he didn’t offer any other details. He told her not to wait up.
About five minutes to close, he walked in the door. Virgil was the only one inside. “Hey Virg,” he said a little louder than one normally would in a library. Patrick laughed as he pictured his mom hushing him as a boy at the library in St. Louis. He’d made such a fuss that she took him outside and gave him a beating. He had remained quiet in libraries ever since.
“Hey there, Patrick. I wondered if you would take me up on the offer.” He approached Patrick and shook his hand. Virgil scanned the front door and saw no one. Satisfied, he turned the sign to Closed and locked the door. He turned out all the lights except for the ones above the checkout desk and down the hallway that led back to his stash of town memorabilia. “Anyone know you’re here?” he asked as he turned off the last light.
“Just Meagan. Other than that, no. At least, I don’t think so. I didn’t know I had to keep it a secret.”
“That’s my fault. I should have told you. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? Besides, I guess Meagan knowing you’re here won’t be a problem.”
“Virg, what exactly is going on? I have to say I’ve never had a clandestine meeting at a library before.”
Virgil laughed.
“Well, it’s best if we go back here. Want something to drink?” He reached under the checkout desk and produced a bottle of whiskey. “I think I got a couple cups around here somewhere.” He rummaged through the desk drawers and pulled out two mismatched coffee cups. “They’re clean. A cup is a cup, right?” He poured them both half full and handed one to Patrick. Patrick looked skeptically at the cup. “Come on, Patrick, it ain’t gonna kill ya. And I think after you hear what I got, you’re gonna need it.” Patrick saw a hint of pity in the old man’s face and he took the cup. Virgil led him down the hallway to the round room at the end.
Inside, Virgil motioned for him to sit in one of the two chairs at the round table. They sat sipping whiskey, and it burned Patrick’s throat as it slid down. For a moment, Patrick wondered if the old man had lured him here just to drink with someone. He moved to get up, and Virgil started.
“Patrick…I’m a Keeper. I know you don’t know what that means yet, but you will.” He took another sip of his whiskey. “Benny, Chief Wayne, and Meagan’s dad are all Keepers, as well.”
“What’s a Keeper?” Patrick asked. Virgil gave him a stern look.
“Please, son, let me finish. This isn’t easy. Just listen, okay? Questions later.” Patrick nodded and sipped his whiskey.
“As I said, I’m a Keeper. I’m a Keeper…of the Ritual. It goes back a long time. In fact, all the way to Nathaniel Browne. My ancestors were part of Nathaniel’s party that moved in and settled this town, as are the families of Chief Wayne, Benny, and your father-in-law.”
“I didn’t know that. Meagan said her family had history here, but I didn’t know it went back that far.”
Virgil nodded. “Yep, we do. There are a few others as well. It’s surprising to think so many have lasted this long.” He stood and turned toward the cabinets on the wall. He pulled out the bone-handled dagger and held it carefully. “This,” he said as he laid it on the table gently, reverently, “goes back to Nathaniel as well. It’s a sacred object, as I tried to tell you before. This has been used ever since his time. It’s got many stories to tell. This is part of the Ritual.”
Patrick was puzzled. “Virg, what are you getting at? What ritual?”
“When Nathaniel and his party settled here, they went through a terrible winter. He lost over thirty members of his fifty-member party. Women, children…even some of his strongest men. All dead. They were unprepared for the brutal cold, and being unfamiliar with the territory, they didn’t know where to find food. They encountered a vicious band of natives. They witnessed all sorts of cruelty…including human sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice? Eric mentioned something about that. Well, sort of,” Patrick said. Virgil took another sip and looked at Patrick.
“As I was saying, Nathaniel and his people witnessed this brutality. Nathaniel was a God-fearing man who was quite familiar with the word of God, but he was tested beyond his limits. Beyond the limits of any human being.” He stopped and sipped again. “He wrote in his journal of seeing strange creatures in the woods. He wrote of huge black dog-like beasts with yellow eyes and of red angels with large vein-streaked wings. Hell, he even wrote about little girls who hung themselves and disappeared without a trace. Most who read his tales thought them musings of a madman, but not me. And not the Keepers.”
“What are you trying to say, Virg?” Flashes of the snarling beasts and the man in the woods flooded his mind. He felt the whiskey burning in his stomach.
“What I’m saying is that Nathaniel had a breakthrough with the natives and he learned their customs… the dark deeds that were necessary to keep the evil at bay. Before the next winter came, sometime before All Saints Day, he took three boys from the survivors to the native chieftain. With his help, they consulted the spirits of the land. You see, Patrick, the evil needs a sacrifice. It needs blood. Without it, it runs amok, killing and destroying. Nathaniel saw that the first dark winter here. Now, with the help of the natives, he learned how to appease the evil. The evil chose one of the three boys to be its sacrifice. And with this dagger, Nathaniel performed the very first one.” He tapped the dagger on the table. Patrick couldn’t move.
“What the hell? Are you telling me Nathaniel killed one of those boys? With this blade?” He shook. His heart raced. He was took a large gulp of the whiskey, thankful it was in front of him. The cup shook in his hands as he tried settling his nerves.
“What I’m telling ya is exactly that. Under great conviction, Nathaniel sacrificed one of those boys. His own boy, in fact. You see, there is evil in this town. An ancient evil. The natives called it some name I don’t recall, but we Keepers know. It’s the devil himself.”
He stared at Patrick with cold, bloodshot eyes.
Patrick thought of the man in the woods; the man in the shadows that bore into his skull and showed him gruesome images. It was so real at the time. None of it, none of the visions made sense. He didn’t believe in fairy tales.
Patrick laughed. “Are you freaking kidding me, old man? You mean to tell me that because of some crazy notion that the devil made him do it, Nathaniel Browne killed his own son? Are you crazy? Been hitting that whiskey a bit too much lately? I mean come on…Satan? W
hy would he think that? That’s ridiculous! You almost had me with the whole sacrifice story, but the devil? You lost me there, bud.” Patrick grinned. He shook his head. “I can’t believe I almost fell for this story. You know what? Thanks for the drink. And the story. I’ll be sure to tell it to Noah someday.” He stood, downed the last of his drink, and turned to leave.
“There won’t be a someday, Patrick. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. The signs are back. The boys have been chosen. That time is now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
NOT TWENTY MINUTES after Patrick left to go to the library, Meagan got a call from Benny.
“Hey, Meah,” he said. “It’s time.” She held the phone to her ear, speechless.
“Meah, are you there? I said it’s time, hon. Do you know what to do? I know you’re there. I can hear the dang television. Noah, is that you, son? This is Benny. Can I talk to your mom?”
“No, Benny, it’s me, Meah. Are you…sure it’s time?” Her cracked voice betrayed the strength she thought she had.
“Yes, ma’am, it is. I know Patrick is gone, too, which will make this easier. You do know where to go and what to do, right?”
Meagan leaned against the wall, covering her face with her hand.
“Yeah,” she said softly, “I know.”
Benny hesitated. “Meah, how about I come over in a little while to make sure?”
She clicked the phone off and slumped in the recliner. Tears trickled down her cheek. She clenched her jaw tight and dug her nails into the arms of the chair, motionless. Eventually, she rose from the chair and slowly shuffled to Noah’s room. Since it was a Saturday night, he got to stay up a little later. His light was still on.
She stood outside his door with her hand on the knob. The moment she opened it, things would change forever. As much as she had prepared for this very moment, it was still hard. She’d been taught all her life to be ready. Ever since she could remember, her parents talked about the necessity of the sacrifice. Al and June drilled it into her and how she would understand it someday. They made sure she saw Todd go to his glory so she’d know what was at stake.
