The Bone Puzzle: The Saga Begins

by Clayton E. Spriggs

  “I’m listening.”

  “If we can’t go to New York, or Los Angeles, or any of the big show business Meccas, and we can’t stay here, what can we do?”

  “Tell me.”

  “No, you tell me, Mr. Blank. Does management have any other venues that need to fill seats? Do any of their constituents have such a venue? Even further, dare I say it, would not our success in the Big Apple or City of the Angels raise our value on our triumphant return to the mighty Luxor, the home away from home of the Amazing and Magnificent Villanova?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Notwithstanding our current dilemma, of course,” Richard reminded them of the threat. “It’s unfortunate that this has come to light now. Our mutual business interests might have proven most lucrative.”

  “I see no dilemma, Mr. Villanova,” the man said as he placed his briefcase on the desk and removed a manila folder. “Our contract can and will be amended to include those things. I’m sure our arrangement will be more than satisfactory to you and yours.”

  “Then, I see no reason not to sign it,” stated Richard.

  The man flipped open the folder and turned the forms of the contract to the last page. He pushed it in front of the magician and offered him a pen. Richard held his palm up, paused, and made a fist, a pen appearing in his grasp from out of thin air.

  “Bravo!” The man smiled.

  Richard paused again and looked at the man.

  “What?” asked the man.

  “The girl,” Richard said, exaggerating the singular, “will be of legal age soon. At that time, there will be a need to revisit our arrangement.”

  Silence fell over the room for a moment. No one blinked. Eventually, the man with the bowtie nodded. “As you wish, Mr. Villanova.”

  Richard signed the contract with the name of a man who didn’t exist. A. M. Villanova.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The new contract was just what Richard needed. They were able to take the show on the road to a few select theaters in the region, which allowed them to improve and refine the act. Even better, they were getting paid handsomely to do it.

  Richard wasn’t greedy, and he was smart enough to realize that his success depended on everyone who contributed. He gave his employees a raise and made it a point to comp meals and give bonuses to the musicians and assorted performers with whom he shared the stage. The magician routinely handed out gifts and handfuls of cash to the various stagehands and theater personnel who he came into contact with, which made him popular at every stop along the way. It was more than an act of altruism on his part. It was a calculated maneuver that ensured his act’s success and reinforced the nondisclosure agreement every employee was required to sign. He was more than happy to play the role of grand benefactor. His future success was all but guaranteed. The act was spectacular.

  After months on the road, they were slated to return to the Luxor the following weekend. The theater had been sold out in advance in anticipation of their return. Richard was happy. His girls were happy. It was going to be their homecoming, and they planned on giving the people of Nashville their best efforts. Just one more show in Memphis, and they’d be on their way.

  The presentation the previous night had gone well, but Richard was unhappy with the venue’s security. He saw a few unsavory looking characters hanging around backstage. They appeared to serve no purpose that he could ascertain, which made him suspicious. As an extra precaution, he’d had the stagehands load up his props in the truck out back, where they would remain, locked up, until show time. The last thing he needed was to have someone poking around, discovering his secrets. He also took special care with the girls. He didn’t want them to be seen together by anyone not under contract and whose palms he hadn’t greased.

  Their grand finale had almost been a disaster during the last performance. It needed some tweaking, so he had the table, box, and saw brought out of the truck and placed backstage. The three burly men with the thick Southern drawls who helped unload the truck acted as disinterested as could be. Something about it wasn’t right. Richard made a mental note to take it up with the management when they came in later.

  “Yes, yes, place it over there,” he instructed. “And be careful. It’s a valuable commodity. You can’t just mosey on down to the corner store and pick one up.”

  He hated to be so sarcastic to the rednecks, but their IQs didn’t seem to be much higher than the amount of teeth defiantly clinging to their rotting gums. Richard didn’t know or care what backwoods swamp these hillbillies came from, but he knew he’d better lay on a bit of charm for the sake of good community relations. So he struck a more cordial tone and attempted to engage them in a bit of small talk to ease the tension before he dropped the boom on them later and had them fired.

  “I really must thank you gentlemen for all of the help. Tell me, do you hail from this vicinity?”

  “Do we what?” one of the men asked.

  “Are you from around here?” Richard clarified.

  “Alabama,” one of the others replied. His two companions glared at him as if he’d spoken a curse word. He offered no further explanation.

  “A beautiful state, I hear,” Richard continued. “I hope to go there soon. Maybe we’ll be fortunate to work together in the future.”

  The men nodded but said nothing. Richard felt uneasy, and he wished they’d go away. He tried to ignore them by fiddling with the box and pretending he was doing something important. Unfortunately, the men didn’t take the hint.

  “That’ll be all for now,” said Richard at last.

  The men stood their ground.

  “Where’s the girl?” a voice from the corridor disrupted the silence. An elderly man with a long, grey beard entered the room, carrying a crooked wooden stick he used as a cane, and flanked by two younger men.

  “I beg your pardon,” replied Richard.

  “The gypsy girl,” the old man said. “Where is she?”

  “I don’t see where that is any of your business,” stated Richard. There was something wrong about this. Who would want the girl?

  For a brief moment, he wondered if his ex-wife had learned of his financial success and planned on fighting for custody to try to squeeze money out of him, but he quickly dismissed the idea. They would’ve asked for the girls, not the girl. Richard had a feeling that this was going to be much worse than anything Ruth could do.

  “I’m makin’ it my business, heathen!” the old man bellowed.

  The gang of unkempt hillbillies circled him. Richard swallowed hard as his mind raced.

  “Now, gentlemen,” he stammered, “whatever it is that you want, I’m sure we can come to a mutual understanding.” Richard wondered if his reputation for generosity had attracted the wrong sort. Maybe they had the impression that he carried around a wad of cash, and they were there to liberate it from him. He wished he had some. They weren’t going to like it when they found out he didn’t have much pocket change on him at the moment.

  “That gypsy girl,” repeated the old man, “The one you’re turnin’ against the Lord. We come for her. She must be saved from your wickedness, demon. Tell me where she is, or else.”

  “Or else what?” Richard said with defiance. He’d never considered himself a brave man, but he’d be damned if he was going to let these thugs get a hold of his little girl.

  The old man laughed. He nodded to the others. The two biggest men each grabbed Richard by the arms. The others closed in.

  “Ain’t nothin’ goin’ to save you now, Devil man,” said one of the men standing next to the old geezer. His outburst resulted in a tap on his shin from the old man’s cane. He winced in pain and hopped on one foot. The younger man on the other side chuckled, which earned him the same fate as his companion. The old geezer shot him a dirty look before turning back to the magician.

  “I ask the questions here, sinner. But for the cowardly and unbelievin’ and abominable and murderers and immoral persons and sorcerers and idolaters, and all l
iars, their part will be in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone! Hand over the gypsy so that I may save her from the terrible fate that awaits you. Heed my words, sorcerer!”

  “Go to hell,” spat Richard.

  “Daddy, I think Lacey has the ruby,” said Laura, rounding the corner and skipping into the room.

  Richard’s heart dropped. The man with the limp grabbed the girl and held his hand over her mouth. The old man nodded his approval, turned back toward Richard, and smiled.

  “Rescue the weak and needy. Deliver them out of the hands of the wicked.” He turned to the man holding the girl, “Take her. Put her in the truck. Jeremiah, you go with him.”

  “But, Paw,” the man holding Laura said, “you promised I’d get to—”

  “Do not merely listen to thy words and so deceive yourselves. Do what I say. Now go, boy, before I spare not my staff again on your worthless ass.”

  Laura tried to break free, but the man’s grip proved too strong. His companion, chuckling again at his brother’s berating, helped subdue the struggling child. Together, they disappeared down the corridor, leaving the magician alone with his tormentors.

  “I seen your magic show, sorcerer,” the old man said. “It was mighty impressive, I must say. ‘Course, I know it to be a false illusion. Only the Lord Jehovah holds such power, and you are not a true believer. Any fool can see that. You follow the path of the Morning Star, Lucifer! What sayeth you now, vile one? What demons can you conjure up on your behalf, sinner?”

  “Leave the girl alone, bumpkin. Don’t you have a sister you can fuck?”

  The blow from the cane came with full force, striking Richard on the left side of his face. He felt his mouth fill with blood. He fought against swallowing a tooth that had been dislodged, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Once Richard regained his composure, he lifted his head and stared at the old man.

  “I particularly liked the tale of you with the cannibals. You talk a good show, a real silver tongued heathen. We both know you are full of lies, viper. You ain’t never been to no Africa. You ain’t never been held by no tribe of niggers. You lie! But I wonder—”

  Richard remained silent. He didn’t like where this was going.

  “They cut you in half, and you was whistling Dixie? That’s what you said. What you gonna sing when we saw you in half, Devil? It better be a hymn. I’m partial to Shall We Gather at the River. Do you think you can sing that one for us, or do you need your legs to help you?”

  The men holding his arms pulled at him. Richard struggled, but he could not break free. Another man grabbed his feet. He fought them off with everything he had, but he was unable to keep them from putting him in the box. They closed the lid, one of the men holding his feet in place, the other holding his neck. He was trapped.

  “If your right eye makes you blind, tear it out and throw it from you!” the old man began his sermon. As if on cue, one of the men retrieved the saw and cut into the box.

  “For it is better that you lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.”

  The saw blade cut further into the box.

  “Please, don’t do this!” Richard pleaded.

  “If your right foot makes you stumble, cut it off and throw it from you. For it is better for you to lose one part of your body, than for your whole body to go to hell.”

  The saw cut deeper still, the leading edge catching Richard’s shirt.

  “Please! I beg you! I have money! Lots of it! It’s yours! Take it! Just stop!” the magician screamed.

  “Better the little that the righteous have than the wealth of many wicked. We ain’t here for your ill-gotten gains, trickster. But except ye repent, ye shall perish.”

  The blade slid down a little further, this time cutting into the magician’s flesh.

  “Aaaaaaggghhh! What, what do you want? Shall, shall we gather at the river, the beautiful, the beautiful river,” Richard sang frantically. “Aaaauggh!”

  “That’s it, heathen. Sing them words like you mean ’em. It won’t matter none, now. It’s too late for that.”

  “Please! Stop! Please!” Richard cried.

  “Stop?” asked the preacher. “Stop!” he held his hand up, and the big man halted the saw. “Do you consent for us to take the girl and set her on the path to righteousness? She’s quite a looker, that one. I’d hate to see what sinful future she’d have if she stayed in this house of iniquity. Fornication no doubt awaits her. What she needs is a godly man to tend to her needs, a humble servant of the Lord, such as myself. Do you consent?”

  Richard’s face contorted as his mouth tried to force a reply. The preacher grew impatient.

  “Spit it out, man!” he commanded.

  Richard did as he was told, his tooth striking the old man square in the eye. The preacher howled and put his hand to his face.

  “As you wish, foul demon. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come forth and take out the wicked from amongst the righteous.”

  The big man cut deeper with the saw. Richard screamed in agony until the preacher gagged his mouth with one of the colorful bandanas the magician frequently used in his act. This only slightly muffled the magician’s cries, so the old man nodded to the others, who picked up where Richard had stopped singing.

  “Gather by the saints at the river that flows by the throne of God.”

  “Humuna mahoo bibibi sharantui,” the preacher mumbled incoherently.

  By the time the saw made it all the way through the box, the magician had stopped moving; the singers had stopped singing; the preacher had stopped his maniacal chanting; and the congregation had fled the scene, leaving a bloody mess in their wake. The Amazing and Magnificent Villanova had performed his last disappearing act.

  PART TWO:

  HALLELUJAH

  Those who can make you believe in absurdities

  can make you commit atrocities.

  Voltaire

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The men drove south, passing through Mississippi before entering Alabama in the early evening. They’d agreed to meet up a few miles away from Cooter Yates’ place outside of Vienna. The remoteness of the location all but guaranteed their privacy.

  “What we gonna do ‘bout that truck, Paw?” Jeremiah asked.

  “Don’t you worry ‘bout that none, JT,” Brother Eustice replied. “That’s why we come all the way out here in the first place. It is the glory of God to conceal things. Where’s the girl?”

  Brother Eustice had ridden in the back of Joe Bob’s sedan when they left Tennessee. His boys, Junior and Jeremiah Thomas or JT, took the magician’s truck, and the others rode in Charles Ray’s pickup.

  They’d been careful not to attract attention. They knew that soon after they left the theater, someone would stumble upon the horrible scene. It wouldn’t take long for them to discover that the girl was missing, along with the magician’s truck. The vehicle was the only lead, and every law enforcement official in the region would be out looking for it.

  “Junior’s got her in the back. We didn’t want anyone to see us.”

  “Get her out here. I want to have a look-see at what we got.”

  Earl Barber popped open the latch and let the back door retract upward. The truck was full of the magician’s stage props, leaving only a small area in the back where the girl was gagged and tied. Junior Winchester hurriedly hopped down from the truck bed and headed for the nearest tree. “It’s ‘bout time. I gotta pee like a racehorse.”

  The elder Winchester paid him no heed, instead focusing his lustful attentions on the girl. After his initial inspection, he frowned.

  “Why is her skirt hiked up like that?” he spat in disgust.

  Junior returned, averted his eyes from his old man’s fiery glare, and meekly mumbled his excuses. “We got jostled about somethin’ awful during the trip, Paw. JT can’t drive for shit. Not to mention, I had to keep all that satanic crap from fallin’ over and crushin’ us to death. Y
ou should be thankin’ me for—"

  Whack! Brother Winchester swung his cane, landing a fierce blow on his eldest son’s shin. Junior yelped and hopped around. Jeremiah snorted in laughter at his brother’s reprimand, then feigned a cough before the old man could turn his attention his way. He needn’t have bothered. The old man’s beady gaze never left the helpless girl tied up in the back of the truck.

  “If I find out you tarnished her chastity in any way, you’ll pay for it severely. Flee from youthful lusts and pursue righteousness. It’s up to us to show this girl the light. She’s seen enough of the ways of the unclean.”

  “I ain’t done nothin’,” Junior tried to explain. “Besides, she’s just a child. She ain’t old enough—"

  “Old enough for what, you vile pervert? She ain’t yours. We didn’t go all the way to Memphis to find you someone to court. You got a wife, adulterer. Your younger brother got hisself a wife. Hell, all you men got someone. It would be sinful for any of you to even look upon her with foul intent. ‘For whoever looks on a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart’, sayeth the Lord. You fellers forget we doin’ God’s work here?”

  The old man nodded to Buck to help him up into the truck. He made his way into the back and squatted down next to the girl.

  “It’s gonna be alright, my little angel,” he assured the frightened child, brushing his fingers across her forehead and pushing her bangs out of her eyes. Laura looked at him and trembled with fear.

  “Brother Eustice is gonna take good care of you. You’ll be happy here, you’ll see. Give it some time. I’m gonna make sure you’ll never have to take part in those Devil shows again. No one’s gonna hurt you. You’ll learn to be a good woman—my woman.”