by A. Sparrow
‘He will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. You will tread on the lion and the cobra.’
Donnie sifted through his notes, spotting a quote from an interview with a Jewish Exorcist from New Mexico who had impressed him—a rabbi named Gershon Winkler.
‘We blow the ram's horn in a certain way, with certain notes, in effect to shatter the body, so to speak. So that the soul who is possessing will be shaken loose. After it has been shaken loose, we can begin to communicate with it and ask it what it is here for. We can pray for it and do a ceremony for it to enable it to feel safe and finished so that it can leave the person's body.’
This idea appealed to him, of fighting music with music. If only he could get a hold of a ram’s horn to blow. He wondered if Mac knew any rabbis who might lend him a spare shofar.
A clanking arose in the den. “Donnie? You here?”
“I’m in the study, Jer. What’s up?”
Jerry pushed through the door bearing a cluster of silvery metal cans with handles.
“I got these paint cans that make good wind screens for those candles. Might have to vent them a bit. What do you think?”
“How windy is it gonna be tonight?”
“Not too bad. The weather service says it’s gonna calm down as the day goes on. High pressure’s settling in over the top of us. Zero chance of rain. Tonight the winds’ll be light and variable, they’re talking two, three knots. Enough to blow out a candle though, without a wind screen.”
Donnie scratched his chin. “I was thinking, maybe we can start the rites indoors with bare candles, seven of them, pure beeswax just like in the scriptures, and then….” He held up a jar. “You remember this? This is the holy oil we brought back from Poland. It’s intended to be used for demon protection via anointing in baptisms and such, but it’s also flammable. Mac’s gonna bring us some tiki torches, so I was thinking of spiking the lamp oil with some of this stuff. I don’t want anyone going near that house without a flame to protect them. Between these torches and your wind screens, I think we’ll be all set.”
“I can drive a sharp screw up through the bottom of these cans,” said Jerry. “Give us a little spike to set the candles. These candles are kind of long, though. We might have to cut ‘em down.”
“Whatever, Jer,” said Donnie, throwing up his hands. “We can let them burn down or … whatever you figure out, I’m sure will be fine. Now, if you’ll pardon me, I kind of have to get back to this here—”
Cindy popped her head into the study.
“Oh, here’s where you are! We were wondering where you guys ran off to. You know there’re some folks out in the kitchen who would really love to meet you.”
Donnie smiled and nodded his head. “I’ll be shortly. I’m just finishing up some notes. I’m not in your way here, am I? I had to move some of your papers.”
“Oh, not a problem. Please do make yourself at home. I’m taking the day off. I’m not even gonna go near any of my real estate stuff till Monday.”
“I’ll be out of your hair soon, ma’am. I promise. I just needed a quiet place to … meditate.”
“Oh, by all means Donnie … er … I hope you don’t mind that we’ve all been calling you Donnie? Or do you prefer Reverend?”
“People have called me Donnie all my life. I’m not going to make them stop now.”
“Before I go, would anybody like some coffee or tea? I’m about to brew up another batch. John’s got an Italian espresso thingie as well, but I’m not sure exactly how to use it, and seeing as he’s not here ….”
“A cup of American, black, is fine with me,” said Jerry.
“Cream and sugar for me, please,” said Donnie.
“Speaking of my husband…” said Cindy. “Did he happen to mention to you gentlemen where he was headed or when he might be coming back?”
“He went off to get groceries,” said Jerry. “Though, that was hours ago. I was hoping he’d be back and could help me with some wiring issues with my traps. We were gonna do it last night, but never did get around to it.”
“Well, I … apologize,” said Cindy. “It’s not like John to skip out like this when there are things to be done. Not like him at all. I’m going to have to give him a call.”
Chapter 44: Ludgate
Riding shotgun, Aerie slumped against the door, hands clasped in her lap, listening to John’s oddly soothing Christian rock. Its catchiness disturbed her. She wasn’t supposed to like this stuff, yet there she was, practically stepping on her toe to keep it from tapping. Perhaps this was an epiphany she was smothering? If so, it was not the first.
John glanced over, his gaze earnest and painfully alert. “This CD is Steve Urbel’s latest. I’m sure you’ve heard of him?”
“Not really,” said Aerie, drowsily.
“He used to go to our church. Now, he’s like the number one draw in contemporary Christian music. Cindy and I got free tickets last year when he played Oneonta.”
“That’s nice,” said Aerie, closing her eyes. “He has a … nice … voice.”
“Oh but … that’s not him singing,” said John.
“Huh?”
“That’s a girl. Steve sings, but not on this tune. He’s just playing guitar on this one.”
The velour seat covers were so thick and cozy, like snuggling in bed. John’s car smelled so clean, and it wasn’t just the air freshener. His windshield probably didn’t leak and spawn mildew the way hers did.
A minefield of potholes shook Aerie like a rag doll and jarred her back fully alert. She wiggled taller in the seat. The suburbs had given way to a landscape of fallow pastures and corn stubble.
The transition seemed to unsettle John. He slowed abruptly and glanced back the way the way they had come. “Guys … I think we just left Ithaca city limits. Are you sure we didn’t pass it?”
“We’re almost there,” said Ron. “It’s another couple miles on the left.”
“Another … couple miles?”
“Calm down, big fella,” said Ron. “We’re just gonna grab our friend and go. It won’t take but a minute.”
“They’ve got great produce there,” said Aerie, in the tone of a mom attempting to calm an impatient child. “You can pick up something to cook for your dinner?”
John exhaled, exasperated. “Thanks, but … I think I’ve shopped enough.”
He pressed onward. Another couple bends in the road and the sign for Ludgate Farms finally appeared.
“Oh! God Bless,” said John. He puffed his cheeks and exhaled as he turned into a lot busy with shoppers. He lucked into a space near the entrance.
“Comin’ with?” said Aerie, as she slipped out. He was being so nice, going out of his way like this.
“I think I’ll stay with the car,” said John, arms folded, fingers kneading the sleeves of his jacket. “Please make it quick. I’ve got to get home.”
“Ooh John! Look, they’ve got Swiss chard on sale!”
“Ron, please!” said Aerie as she slammed the door. “Don’t mock him. He’s doing us a big, big favor.”
They maneuvered through stacks of pumpkins scanning the aisles for Eleni.
“Do we know if she’s even working today?” said Aerie.
“It’s morning,” said Mal. “She’s a morning person.”
“Is that all you have to go on? We dragged poor John all the way up here with only—?
“There she is!” said Ron.
Eleni emerged from a store room with a cart stacked with bundles of carrots. Her eyes went wide when she spotted her friends. She rushed over and pounced on them, hugging each in turn.
“Oh my God! I thought you guys were kidnapped by space aliens or something. I mean, it’s like you all just disappeared from Ithaca.”
“Tell me about it,” said Aerie.
“We’re back in business, El girl!” said Ron. “Aaron forgives us and wants us
to play for pay again.”
“Really? When do we play again?”
“Now,” said Mal.
She scrunched her brow. “Huh?”
“When do you finish your shift?” said Aerie.
“Hell with that,” said Mal. “She’s coming with us now. Junior’s not gonna last the day the rate he’s fading.”
“Who’s—?”
“I’ll explain later,” said Aerie. “Can you come with us? Is it possible?”
Eleni’s eyes wandered as if searching the motes of dust dancing in the sun beam washing the front of the market. They seized like a dart. “I’ll tell them … it’s a family emergency.”
She bustled over to the service desk and demanded the attention of an elderly man in a white shirt and bow tie. After a lot of nodding and pats on the back, she pulled off her apron and came sprinting back, barely suppressing her grin.
“Let’s go!”
***
John maneuvered past hedges, down access lanes and onto back roads no wider than driveways. This would be the last stop, Aerie had promised, just a quick drive-by to pick up their lead singer.
The only problem was: no one seemed to know where Sari lived. They had a street address, but the houses were not always consecutively numbered and some were hidden away down long driveways guarded by big dogs and dowagers.
John kept up what he thought was a calm and cheery front, but he could feel his reserve of calm dwindle. All he could think about was those chickens festering in the trunk. His pulse pounded strong and quick in his ears.
His innate docility was doing him no favors. It was time to put his foot down. He was just going to have to face up to Aerie and tell her that enough was enough.
“Turn right,” said Mal, squinting at Google Maps on his iPhone.
John complied, only to immediately recognize a white gazebo under oaks on a grassy slope. They had passed this spot twice before.
“Aw shit, here we go again,” said Ron. “Who the fuck taught you how to read a map?”
“Give her a call,” said Aerie. “Maybe she could meet us somewhere.”
Mal shook his head. “No can do. We do that, we lose the element of surprise,” said Mal.
“That’s it. I’m heading home,” said John. “I’ll drop you off downtown.”
“No, wait,” said Aerie. “Let’s try that other road; the one you said was too small.”
A tic sprang up in the corner of John’s mouth and wouldn’t stop quivering. His hands grew slick on the steering wheel, as an ever widening spiral of anxiety pulled him deeper.
“I promise you this will be absolutely the last go,” said Aerie, patting his knee.
“It has to be,” said John. “I really need to get home.”
“Left! Go left,” said Mal. “This is it. For real.”
“Yup,” said Ron. “Look at that mailbox. Number 54!”
An Italianate mansion with salmon-tinted stucco revealed itself from behind a palisade of slender fir trees.
“Holy! Would you look at that?” said Eleni. “Where does she find these rich boyfriends?”
John pulled up beside an arbor strangled with vines dangling shriveled grapes. A walk led past a granite bird bath so massive it could have drowned a crow.
“Does she even know we’re coming?” said Aerie.
“Nope,” said Mal. “She thinks we’re mailing this imaginary check of ours. It’s better this way. We have the element of surprise. Let’s go to the door together. All of us face to face, how can she say no?”
“Guys. Make it quick. Please?” said John.
“Sari has a car,” said Aerie. “If she says yes, we can send you on your way.”
“Hold on. I don’t see her Saab,” said Ron.
“Fuck,” said Mal. “Is she not home?” He trotted up the front steps and rang the bell.
John popped the trunk and went around and checked the groceries. The chickens on top were feeling a bit lukewarm to the touch. He stacked the bags to minimize the surface area and keep everything cool. They would be fine, if he could head straight home after this.
He would have to work quickly; scrub them in the sink, mash some garlic, grate some ginger, dismember them and combine everything in a plastic tub and into the fridge. He need two hours minimum to allow for a proper marinade.
His phone chimed. He shuddered at the caller id. It was Cindy. With reluctance, he answered. “H-hi, hon.”
“John? Where the heck have you been?”
“Um … shopping. Fetching groceries for dinner tonight.”
“Jerry says you left three hours ago.”
“No … I don’t think so … not quite … it was more like two. I … uh … I didn’t care for the poultry at Wegman’s so I had to … I went to … uh … GreenStar.”
“That hippie place?”
“No, it’s not hippie per se, it’s … natural foods. I got some good stuff there. Wait’ll you see these chickens. So fresh. They’ve got such a great, great color to them.”
“Where are you? You on your way back?”
“Um … yeah. I made a stop at Ludgate Farms, but … I’m … I’m on my way.”
“Are you nuts? That’s halfway to Dryden. What’s wrong with our local farm stand?”
“Well … Ludgate had some good specials … like … Swiss Chard … though I … I ended up not getting any. I thought may … our guests … might like something more familiar.”
“Chard? Really, John? This foodie thing is getting to be a bit of an obsession. Listen. We’re all here having coffee and tea and there’s no creamer … not even skim milk. I’m having our guests squirt whipped cream into their cups. That’s … not acceptable.”
“Oh! It’s okay, hon. I picked up a carton of half-and-half. I‘ll be home soon. I’m … on my way.”
“What about lunch? I assume you’re on top of that?”
“Um … I wasn’t counting on lunch. Isn’t this gonna be an evening thing?”
“People are already here, John. All I have to offer them is some donuts and bagels.”
“Oh, no problem. I picked up some nice, crusty good bread, some sliced provolone and cold cuts. I can make an apple pie for dessert.”
“I wish you had thought of doing all this yesterday, instead of waiting till the last minute like always.”
“Well, last night … I intended to go … I just got tied up with the kids and all.”
“Kids? What are you talking about? I was the one watching them till my folks got there! You were … you were … I don’t know what you were doing.” John heard whispering on the other end of the line. “Just … hurry home. Jerry said you’d promised to help him with something or another.”
“Will do. I’m … I’m on my way. I’m driving.”
An unearthly scream ululated from the porch. The singer from the band out on the porch in blue silk pajamas, slapping at Ron and writhing in his grasp.
“John? What on earth was that noise? Did you run over a cat?”
“Cind. I gotta go! Talk to you later, bye.”
***
“Get your hands off me! Get away! This house is alarmed. I can have the police here in … two minutes.”
“Sari, calm the fuck down!” said Aerie. “Ron was only joking. He wasn’t really going to kidnap you.”
Ron’s eyebrows popped. “I wasn’t?”
“I told you. I am finished with Aaron. It was a lovely and very interesting time playing with you all, and for good pay, but I have moved on and now I have become a very busy person. We are recording in Binghamton starting tomorrow, and I have much to prepare.”
“Sari, we need you,” said Aerie. “I’ve never heard anyone with a voice that comes close to what you can do with yours can do.”
“So you think the way to persuade me is to attack me while I am wearing my pajamas having my tea at breakfast?”
“We just wanted a chance to talk,” said Mal. “Ron’s just being Ron.”
Sari’s breathing equalized.
The fire in her eyes dissipated.
“So how have you all been? I must say, you look terrible. You’ve lost some weight, Mal. And your clothes look so dirty.”
“I’ve been busy,” said Mal. “Catching birdies.”
Sari gaped. “You did not!”
“I did.”
“Aaron is quite pleased, I presume?”
“He needs us,” said Aerie. “And we need you.”
“I’m sorry, dear, but I told you—”
“If you don’t come they’re going to make me sing.”
“You?” Sari cocked her head like a pigeon. “Well, I can certainly give you some tips. I can tell you what the birdies like to hear.”
“Um … no … I wasn’t actually planning to sing. I mean, that’s ridiculous.”
Sari shuffled her feet, impatiently. “Well, goodbye and thank you all for coming. It was nice to see you again, although I could do without the pranks next time. I do wish you all would come and see Vida when we play Ithaca next.”
“Aw, for Christ’s sake, Sari, come on!” said Ron. “Didn’t you hear about the triple pay?”
“She can even have my share,” said Mal.
“It is not about the money,” said Sari. “It is my time that is precious.”
Eleni stepped in front of Sari. “Guys, it’s okay. I know this other girl with this amazing voice. Her name’s Lucy and—”
“Lucy Renaldo?” said Sari, eyebrows sharpening. “The Brazilian?”
“You know her?”
“I’ve heard … of her.”
“Lucy would do it,” said Eleni. “She loves any chance to sing, and her voice is incredible. You have to hear it. She’s so powerful.”
“What you mean is, she is loud,” said Sari.
“Not just that. She has range and control.”
“I know what you are doing,” said Sari. “You are just … tweaking me.”
Eleni turned slightly and looked at Aerie. There was something sly behind her flat expression.
“Did you know she’s even sung opera at Cornell? And she’s not even a student there.”
“I’m game. Why don’t … why don’t we give her a call?”
Sari squinted and hugged herself against the chill. “Hold on! When is it you are playing with Aaron?”
“As soon as we can get there,” said Mal.
