The Time Deceiver

by Gerard Denza

  -He taught me a great deal about Jewish mysticism and, in particular, about the glyph.

  -The other side. The darkness. Don’t ask me how I know that. -You’re familiar with it. That’s all that matters. Good. I told you that you would eventually answer my question. It was through my knowledge of the glyph that I became a rich woman.

  -Tell me more about this mysterious lover of yours.

  -When I married, he left me almost immediately, as he said he would. But, he instilled within me the knowledge of life and death that a woman possesses.

  -Did he tell you about the “event?” Is that even the right word for it?

  -Yes. He did.

  -And?

  -I grew to fear him.

  -Why?

  -Every moment became an apprehension of fear and anticipation. I became obsessed with finding out more about it. I grew superstitious. I sought frantically for any clues or information.

  -Why and what did he tell you, Marlena? Don’t hold out on me.

  -To torment me, of course. But, he underestimated me. He made the fatal mistake.

  -What did he actually tell you? Level with me.

  -That there will be a moment when the scales of heaven and hell will meet and the horizon will be extinguished.

  And, then, we heard it. The both of us stood up.

  -Did you hear that, Marlena?

  -Who’s in this room with us? Answer me!

  Silence. We both felt it, though. It was a humming sound that touched the tops of our heads. We sat back down. My hostess was agitated.

  -Susan thought that she saw someone through the window before.

  -He’s watching me. I must be close to it now! He’s getting anxious. To think that I should have fallen in love with a Jew. It’s incomprehensible! Their entire bloodsucking race should have been wiped out! How dare he leave me!

  I waited a few moments for her to calm down.

  -Oh, do forgive my outburst, Edward. As I was saying?

  -What was his name?

  -His name?

  -His name, Marlena. Your lover?

  -I’ve no idea. He never told me. He never told me.

  -You expect me to believe that?

  The rain had stopped; but, I could feel the dampness.

  -Edward, he gave me that information on a Sunday evening: an early part of the evening at a time when our portion of the world begins to turn warm, shortly after the spring equinox. I knew that what he said meant the end of everything. He was surprised that I knew.

  -Do you know anything about this man?

  -Only that he was a patron of the arts and an intellectual.

  -Where did he live? Where did he come from? For God’s sake, you must know that much.

  -This was his house. He sold it to my husband and myself for a large sum of money. Where did he actually come from? I’ve no idea. He was a private individual and did not share his confidences.

  -He didn’t share too much of anything, did he? How did he come to learn what he did?

  -Through his own powers of the occult, that must be it.

  -I think there’s a lot more to it than that.

  I looked around the dark cellar.

  -Can we open more lights in here?

  -No. I prefer the semi-darkness.

  -I don’t.

  -I’m certain that he’s watching us at this very moment.

  -And, that doesn’t bother you? It gives me the creeps.

  -I’ve grown accustomed to it as one does to a fatal disease. It’s when I can no longer feel his presence: that is when the end will come.

  -When you visited your synagogues, Marlena, did you learn anything worthwhile?

  -I’ve taken documents and sacred objects that amounted to very little. However, I’ve invoked the Gnostic Mass and it-has-been wonderful! It is the only time of day when I feel safe. It is through the Mass that enlightenment and occult power has come to me. And, you will be my priest, that is why you are here. I need a man with balls.

  I swallowed another morsel of pot-pie. I was almost afraid to ask my next question.

  -Will you be my priestess?

  -Of course. My son, Gabriel, will be deacon and Susan will be the Virgin; poor, plain thing; but, it’s a part that she’s suited for.

  I had to ask this next question.

  -How do we stop doomsday from happening? Can we stop it from happening?

  -Tonight, you will read Valerie’s journal and, then, you will tell me.

  The upstairs door opened and Susan came running down.

  -Mother! There are men outside the house.

  -The police? How inconvenient. Tell them to go away.

  -My mother...no, it’s not the police. These men are standing on each corner of the block. Gabriel saw them when he came back from one of your “jobs.”

  -Don’t be impertinent, Miss.

  Even though the rain had stopped, the cold crept through my feet and up my body. Marlena took her stockings from my lap and put them on as Susan looked at me in disbelief.

  -Our house is surrounded by strange men, who may well mean to murder us all, and my mother stops to put on her nylons.

  Her mother’s reply was not nice.

  -Shut up and get my pocketbook!

  Susan ran back upstairs and closed the door behind her.

  Marlena fumbled with her nylons, but what she said was plain and distinct.

  -This is serious: the four points of the compass have been blocked and soon those men will make their move — and that move is to kill us all, just like Dolores was butchered earlier this evening.

  Marlena adjusted her nylons and raced up the stairs as I followed close behind. She threw open the door and looked around wildly with her hair flying in all directions. She ran into the living room. Susan came in with her mother’s black, overstuffed bag.

  -Give it to me!

  She snatched the bag from Susan and rummaged through it like a madwoman. She pulled out a hand pistol.

  -Good! Now, we have a chance. Susan get Rosamund and Yolanda and tell your brother to get the car ready. And, get our passports and money. Hurry! And, get some clothes for Edward. He’s coming with us.

  Susan ran up the stairs. I heard her talking to someone in a calm but hurried voice.

  Yolanda came down the stairs looking worried.

  -What’s this that I hear? The house has been surrounded? What have you done, Marlena? Sweet Edward, you’ll protect me, no?

  -I’ll feel better able to do that as soon as I get some pants on.

  -Edward, go upstairs to Erich’s room and hurry. There’s no time to lose. Hurry!

  Marlena kept screaming that word “hurry” in an annoyingly high-pitched tone that made me want to slap her across the face. I’m sure that she would have struck me back.

  I left the two women alone and hurried upstairs. Too bad that Marlena hadn’t told me which room Erich was in. I opened the first door that I came to.

  -Erich?

  -Yes? You have come for some clothes? We are the same size. Here, I’ve already put some clothes out for you. We’ll talk while you dress, Mr. Mendez.

  I flung off the robe and kicked off the slippers. Erich appraised me and nodded. There was nothing sexual in that look: it was a cold appraisal as one man would often give another. Erich was neither threatened by me nor repulsed: an instant camaraderie had been struck up between the two of us. He also noticed the gun I had.

  -You carry a German pistol? So do I. Good man.

  -Thanks.

  -Why are we leaving? I understand that there is danger outside? Wouldn’t it be wiser to remain indoors? Tell me of this danger, Mr. Mendez.

  I slipped into the underwear and snatched the pants off of the bed.

  -Word travels fast in this house. Four men have surrounded the place and Marlena is pretty upset by it. I think she plans to leave the country.

  -That ugly woman amuses me. As I expected, she wants to come with us to Germany. Marlena was unable to persuade Rosamund to sta
y, and so she follows us.

  -You may be right about that, Erich; but, I don’t think that’s why she’s leaving at this particular moment.

  I sat on the bed and put on Erich’s socks.

  -I will be honest with you. I am a Nazi. I will also tell you this: beware of Marlena and do not let your guard down. I don’t like her, but for me that is not at all unusual for I despise most women.

  -Do you know anything about any of this? As one man to another, level with me.

  -My Valerie was disturbed by dreams. Rosamund told me that Valerie would lay awake nights because she was fearful of her dreams. And, then-

  There was a knock on the door.

  Erich shouted through the door.

  -We’ll be right down!

  The person in the hallway walked on.

  -Valerie heard things and felt things even when awake. I would laugh at this at the time, but not now. And, this I can tell you, my friend: she confided everything to Rosamund and her journal.

  I now had on my new friend’s white-collared shirt and over it went my shoulder holster and gun.

  -I can even lend you my loafers. Here. You look good in my clothes. You haven’t forgotten your gun. Good.

  -No chance. You wouldn’t have a cigarette on you, would you? I left mine in my jacket.

  Erich reached into his trouser pocket.

  -Here. They’re German cigarettes and strong. Take one.

  -Thanks.

  He took out his lighter and lit it for me.

  -So, what do you think of Marlena’s children, Mr. Mendez? They’re a strange lot, no?

  -I’ve only met her daughter. She seems nice enough and pretty level-headed.

  -Yes. I can find no fault with her. Let me know what you think of the son when you meet him. He’s strange. I don’t like him.

  I had to laugh out loud.

  -Oh? Is what I said so funny, Mr. Mendez?

  -In a way, it is. It seems that Gabriel is unanimously hated. You don’t like him. Yolanda doesn’t like him. And, your friend, Miss Spender, doesn’t like the young man. I almost feel sorry for him.

  -Don’t. And, Rosamund and I are not friends. She hates me and my beliefs even more.

  I made one final check on my gun. Good. The safety catch was on.

  I finished dressing and we went downstairs. Erich carried his suitcase with him. The others waited for us at the foot of the stairs. Yolanda had my jacket over her arm and handed it to me.

  -Sweet Edward, here’s your jacket. It’s still a little damp. And, I’ve already checked: your wallet and cigarettes are there. You see? I look after you.

  Marlena made a face at that last remark.

  -Let’s go. Gabriel has the car parked out in front and I have this!

  She had a firm grip on her gun. Something told me that this woman was a crack shot.

  Everyone carried a suitcase except for Yolanda and me. We smiled at each other and followed the others out into the night. Marlena’s car was a limousine. We piled in: Gabriel and Susan up front, Rosamund, Yolanda, and Erich on the fold-up seats and Marlena and me in the back.

  -Gabriel, to the airport and step on it!

  That was Marlena.

  The young man floored the gas pedal and we reached the corner in no time. A man in a black coat stood there. He was one of the men I’d seen this afternoon. He turned toward us so that I could see his chalk-white face set against the black night. His head looked disembodied.

  Marlena shouted an order at her son.

  -Gabriel, run him over!

  Gabriel swerved the car to the left and ran over the man. We heard and felt the thud and, for a moment, the man’s face crossed the glare of the headlights. The body was flung forward and hit the pavement. Our driver ran over it to finish the job.

  His mother turned around to gloat, but her moment of triumph was short-lived. She screamed out her next words.

  -He’s getting up! The other three are joining him!

  Everyone, except Gabriel, turned around to look. He made a sharp right and headed for the airport. Marlena spoke to me.

  -I have our passports, Edward.

  -You have my passport? How the hell did you get it?

  -I sent Gabriel to fetch it this morning. Do you mind?

  -You don’t miss a trick do you, Marlena?

  -Never.

  -I’m glad I’m on your side.

  -Would you like to accompany us to Germany?

  -Do I have a choice?

  -Well no, dear boy, you haven’t.

  Marlena had made our arrangements: illegally and all properly done. We boarded the plane for Munich that night. Surprisingly, Yolanda went with us and, to her astonishment and Marlena’s, all of her traveling arrangements had been made, as well.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE CONFESSIONAL

  I SAT BACK IN THE PLANE seat. In my lap was Valerie’s leather-bound journal which Marlena had given to me. I sat next to a sleeping Yolanda and she looked beautiful. I knew that she felt protected by me and drew comfort from my presence. Her hand was on my lap and, gently, I picked it up and slipped past her and into the aisle. I needed to relieve myself. I walked down the narrow aisle and into the rest room. God! that felt good! Now, I could read Valerie’s journal in comfort. I opened the door and Marlena was standing there. Why wasn’t I surprised?

  -I followed you, Edward. We need to finish our conversation. I’ll get straight to the point. Sit here: these seats aren’t taken.

  We sat down.

  -Edward...holy places...indeed...why are they holy? Has anyone ever wondered? Really wondered?

  She answered her own question.

  -They are sanctuaries and links to what we call the unknown. At one time, they were vehicles of transportation to other galaxies: a lost art.

  -Go on, Marlena. You’ve got me hooked.

  -I found what I had been after. After so many years, I found it in such a sanctuary!

  -Marlena? Your voice...

  She leaned closer to me.

  -I was in a Catholic church not more than six months ago. Let me tell you what happened.

  Marlena told her story, as a story should be told.

  -It was an October evening and warm for that time of year. As soon as I climbed the stairs, I knew that something was about to happen. I knew that I was being brought closer to dreaded knowledge. The air was stagnant and had the smell of decay to it. The haze across the sky descended upon the ground like a dark, tattered veil...the ripped shreds from the veil of the temple. I opened the heavy, wooden door and entered the vestibule. It was dark. I saw a man reading something that had been placed on to a bulletin board, and a woman was there with her child. Why do I mention them? Because, I felt that they knew why I had come. I entered the church and saw a few old people lighting candles and saying prayers. It disgusted me to look at them. I detest piety.

  -Then, what happened? Don’t hold back on me.

  -Patience, Edward. Let me tell my story.

  Marlena paused for effect.

  -I walked down the side aisle and everything looked as if it had been taken from a Master’s painting. It was as if the church were shrinking and I was remaining tall. And, then, it felt as if some force were turning me around and pointing me to that particular confessional. I tried turning away; but, I couldn’t. Something or someone wanted me to go in there.

  She stopped and looked down at her hands.

  -I entered and closed the confessional door behind me and knelt down. This is what happened.

  -Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. Counsel me and forgive your daughter.

  -In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. Tell me of your sins.

  -They are far too numerous to mention.

  -Speak to me.

  -I hesitate to speak of them. They may shock you.

  -I am waiting. Tell me of your greatest sin.

  -I seek-

  -I know what it is that you seek.

  -Indeed.

/>   -You fear death. You fear the destruction.

  -How do you know that? Tell me, priest.

  -I know who you are and why you were brought here.

  -Who the hell are you?

  -Before this night is done, I will be dead.

  -Talk to me outside.

  -No. Don’t look upon my face or you would run from this place. Her name is Valerie Spender: seek her out in Germany, but hurry, dearest Marlena. It may already be too late.

  -How do you know me? Who are you?

  -Go to this young girl before she is killed. She will be murdered, and for this they shall burn in hell! I will see to it!

  -Tell me who you are. I demand to know.

  -A fiend in the nightmares that you cannot allow yourself to remember even a glimmer of. I am a doomed soul who has lost his lust for immortality and now seeks to redeem myself within the great Judgment Hall. For my grievous misdeeds, I will be trampled upon, but one god will take pity and judge me. I am a distortion of what life may one day be. I am the wretch who walks upon the bodies of the dead so that no one may hear my footsteps. Beware, Marlena, for I am evil.

  -I WENT TO HIS BOOTH, Edward, and yanked the door open. He was kneeling down and wearing a black coat. He turned his face to me and it was hideous. Hideous! Burnt white and old beyond belief...lips which oozed blood. He got up and knocked me to the floor. I heard him run down the aisle.

  I took a deep breath before I spoke.

  -Marlena, was he one of those murdering goons we’ve been running into?

  -He was much more than that. And he was right about everything.

  -He was probably killed for what he did.

  -Probably.

  -But, why did he do it? Why? What was he getting out of it? What was in it for him? Salvation?

  -Maddening, isn’t it? I’ve wondered several thousand times, myself. A last act of redemption? Revenge?

  -It sounds like his conscience was bothering him.

  -The only way to know is to find out who these men are.

  -I wouldn’t call them “men.” I don’t know what I’d call them.

  -Anyway, dear boy, go back to your seat and read Valerie’s journal. I’ll get you some java.

  I went back to my seat and climbed over Yolanda. I reached down and drew out the journal from the duffel bag that I’d bought at the airport. Instead of reading it, I rested it on my lap. I had to close my eyes to think and make some sense out of what had gone on in the last two days. I had no past and, according to Marlena, the future wouldn't last much beyond the end of the month.