The Bestiarum Vocabulum (TRES LIBRORUM PROHIBITUM)

Home > Other > The Bestiarum Vocabulum (TRES LIBRORUM PROHIBITUM) > Page 11
The Bestiarum Vocabulum (TRES LIBRORUM PROHIBITUM) Page 11

by Dean M. Drinkel


  Gustav Meyrink, The Golem 1914

  Before I close my eyes for what would probably be the final time, I’m forced to reflect on events of the last 24 hours: the sudden disappearance of my friends; the origin of my executioner; and why, for the first time in decades, I’m happy.

  It all started when . . .

  ***

  I walked into my office on the top floor of Spencer and Marx Insurance Brokers, where a swirl of air, cold as death, rushed to greet me. I stood motionless in the centre of my office, the 1st edition books and expensive bourbon on mahogany shelves surrounding me.

  The lack of photos worsened the graveyard chill; not a single smile or memory from sunny days to greet me. An ex-girlfriend once bought me a small plant, for the office, but no matter how hard I’d tried, it died along with her love. She’d accused me of sabotaging every aspect of my life. I’d purposefully smiled during the entire breakup.

  Such was life – my life.

  I walked over to the large panel window on the far wall. The city below appeared as warm and welcome as a summer’s day picnic, like they had nothing to hold them back.

  Perhaps it was only me.

  I turned back to the office. How I loathed being there. The dilemma of course, was where else would I go. There was nowhere I wanted to be. No other place I detested less.

  Where can a man be happy if not inside himself?

  No matter how hard I tried to convince myself I had nothing to be unhappy about, I was barely content most of the time.

  Another nameless secretary walked up behind me. I didn’t have the strength or will to turn. “Morning, sir. Wonderful morning isn’t it?”

  I wondered if all young people talked so fast. Not that I was old. Thirty five’s pretty young, especially if you consider I’m a highly successful and filthy rich bachelor. Ever noticed that not one letter in ‘happy’ will be found in ‘successful’?

  Makes one wonder.

  I guess we all have to choose which one we want, a life of happiness or a life of meaning – I just don’t recall ever getting a choice.

  “Would you like some coffee, sir?” Her voice, laced with sweetness, bordered on lust. I’ve had my way with a few secretaries in the past, but like everything else in my life, it held no reward, no happiness.

  I nodded, not sure if she noticed. The door clicked shut behind me.

  My chair creaked as I slunk into it. I glided my hands over the smooth desk before me, hoping to find distraction in my work.

  I tapped my fingers on the desk, frustration seeping from within.

  I gazed down at the drawer and recalled how all successful people in the movies stored a gun in there. I wished I had one. I’d curl my finger around its cold steel and spill my warm blood. Those rich prick partners of mine could clean up after me for a change. Who knows how long I still had left before natural causes would end my gloomy existence.

  “You alright, Mr Marx?”

  “Mmm?” I looked up, surprised I hadn’t heard her come in. My gaze only went as high as the point where her thighs connected with her black skirt. I looked down at a random document. I couldn’t recall her name. Had I even taken the time to find out?

  To what purpose?

  They never lasted long. The flirty ones always quit, leaving lawsuits and broken marriages in their wake, while the good ones quickly worked their way up to my partners, the Spencer brothers. All three of them. They’d become very rich and happy guys, and they’d never thanked me for their success.

  Not once.

  Not even a bit.

  Hell, they’d even blamed me for losing a big account this week. It was probably their damn fault.

  “Yeah, sure,” I replied. “And my coffee?”

  “Right there on your desk, sir?”

  “Any messages?”

  “Yes,” she said as she paged through her notebook.

  I glanced at her smooth legs again. . .and waited for my libido to respond.

  Fuck!

  I’d lost even that.

  The most beautiful part of her was her long dark hair – graceful and natural. . .pure.

  “Mr Spencer wants...”

  “Which Mr Spencer?”

  She chortled. “The tall one. John, I think?”

  “Go on.” I hoped she hadn’t noticed me gazing at her legs. The last thing I needed was another secretary diverting me from my work, the only distraction from my life.

  She straightened her upper body and pulled her blouse tight, pressing her breasts against the fabric like someone straining to eavesdrop. “Mr Spencer wants you to oversee the Kruger case in...”

  “This weekend?”

  Her eyes betrayed her startled mind. “Yes, sir. He mentioned a family affair they all have to attend, something about their father, and that you wouldn’t mind...”

  “Wouldn’t mind? Son-of-a-bitch! Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  She grinned, her discomfort drowning her supposed seductions.

  “Is that all?”

  “No. Forgive me sir...” She looked up, our eyes meeting for the first time that day. “...but this one was a bit odd.”

  “Go on.”

  “A Mr Hendrix phoned, who said you have two hours to...‘get your butt to the lake before sunset, or wash his sweaty shorts.’”

  I sat up in my chair, bewildered but quite amused by this break in routine. “Hendrix? Like Jimmy?”

  “He didn’t say, sir.”

  “No, I mean...never mind. Thank you.”

  I found myself stuck in that awkward moment where she waited to see if I could recall her name, but when I checked again she was gone.

  ***

  After several minutes of the GPS urging me to turn back, I switched it off and tossed it onto the passenger seat of my rented Renault. The road from the city to the lake was a lot more decrepit than I recalled from my childhood, like it hadn’t been used in years.

  Impossible, of course.

  For a moment I almost believed no one was meeting me there. Like some sinister force had lured me to this childhood sanctuary.

  But why?

  Was this the place I was destined to end up, all alone...to die...the oldest member of a herd beneath a far off tree?

  I pushed the way-too-familiar pessimism from my mind, thinking only about my friends.

  It had taken me a few seconds, back in the office, but I had eventually realized who Hendrix was. It could only have been my old friend Matt. How long had it been since we’d seen each other? He had always used cool rock star names to impress girls, especially when our families vacationed together at the lake. It was his ‘conversation starter.’

  Once I had made up my mind, I asked my secretary to rent me a car, something average that wouldn’t stand out among vacationing families at the lake. And, mostly, I didn’t want my friends to think I was some rich idiot who’d neglected them because I believed I was better than them. My life would’ve been a lot easier if I had that much pride.

  Me, Matt, Caleb and Jacob. I can’t believe how much I’d forgotten about our times together. Somewhere we all just lost touch. I think I was too ashamed to share my life experiences with them. I was successful, in most people’s opinion, but I knew my friends would see right through me, into my heart...my deep black abyss of a broken soul.

  A long absent excitement overwhelmed me as I evoked some of our holiday memories.

  What have the boys been up to all these years?

  Perhaps it was time we all met up – they could very well save my cursed life. And where better than the lake.

  I’d almost passed the wooden sign above the road before I noticed it, swallowed by the encroaching trees.

  Aventura Lake.

  It was not only the entrance that had deteriorated since my last visit. As I entered, Cabin upon cabin stood deserted beside the dirt road, like homeless people staring at passers-by, their bodies layered not with old blankets but with bleak, dead leaves. Forest creepers and branches and
sinister secrets had moved in long ago.

  If it wasn’t for the beautiful memories of the camp in my youth, I would’ve thought this new view quite astounding, like Hiram Bingham when he discovered the Inca ruins swallowed by the dark jungle. It was heart-breaking, and appeasing, to witness such a site.

  I passed the old recreation centre, which some time in the last few years had become part of the forest.

  The path gradually widened and the canopy backed away to reveal the hidden lake. It lay like a forgotten and polluted eyesore staring up at the heavens, longing back to better days.

  The lake was a lot smaller than I remembered, among other things.

  Again I thought myself alone, just me and the lake. Perhaps dreaming. I couldn’t help but think that the lake wanted to suck me into its depths and keep me there forever. It had been waiting all these years for my return.

  I reached the last of the cabins and eased the rental to a death-rattling halt. Silence mixed with the overpowering bouquet of exhaust smoke and nature.

  A slow glance at my surroundings reinforced my initial fear – there was no one here.

  Had my friends lured me under false pretences?

  A movement across the water!

  I turned to see if the others were already enjoying a swim, my heart racing at the thought, but once more there was no one there.

  Just a shadow. Large and...almost human shaped, yet uncomfortably so. Was I imagining it? What could’ve been the shadow of a tree could also have been the sun’s reflection off the water playing tricks on my eyes.

  Had it just moved its branches – fingers?

  I couldn’t be certain.

  “Jeremy!” a chorus sang out beside me. I turned to see the old wooden cabin, dilapidated yet intact, spew out my childhood friends like some satiated beast.

  And where moments earlier nothing but overgrown grass existed, now stood three very expensive 4x4 vehicles.

  I guess my trip was off to a bad start.

  “What’s up, fatso?” I immediately recognised Matt’s satirical tone, then noticed he hadn’t slimmed down a bit over the years. His body wobbled up, down and sideways as he traversed the creaking steps. Apparently he was just as unmovable, physically and spiritually, as he’d always been.

  I exited the car as the boys ran towards me, enveloping me with hugs and overexcited handshakes. How long had it been since I’d had a hug?

  “Holy shit, Jeremy. Matt laughed as he pointed to my ride. “What is that?”

  Caleb elbowed him in the ribs and, when Matt eyed him contently, shook his red-haired head. Just like old times.

  “No way,” Jeremy continued. “That thing looks like braces on wheels, dude.”

  I shook my head and smiled, more in relief for being in their presence than for what Matt had said. “Ah, Matt. I see you haven’t lost your touch.”

  “You betcha.”

  I quite enjoyed the moment. It was almost like we were just boys again – the entire summer in our grasp.

  They seized my bags and led me into the cabin, which, except for the sleeping bags and boxes of alcohol spread throughout the living room area, looked a lot better than I’d first expected. In a way it reminded me of my old dorm room.

  Caleb put one of my bags on a dusty sofa, while Matt dumped the other on the floor and tossed me a warm beer. “Sorry, mate. No electricity.”

  “Yeah,” Caleb continued. He pointed to the fireplace. “We’ll have to get wood before it gets too dark.”

  Matt belched. He raised both his eyebrows several times like a mischievous teenager. “You guys don’t think you’re gonna get any sleep in, do ya? All-nighter, baby!”

  We all laughed, but I gathered that my friends were a bit childish for grownups. Then again, I didn’t have a lot of experience hanging out with grown men. Perhaps this was normal.

  “Come!” Matt called. “Grab another beer and get your lazy legs moving, boys. We’re going scoutin’!”

  A drink in each hand, we left the cabin to explore.

  There had clearly been a sudden drop in temperature. With the lush forest so close to the cabins and the road, the last of the sun barely illuminated out path. We were mostly guided by the light reflecting off the clearer water towards the middle of the lake.

  “This place looks crap,” I said. “It hardly even looks like our old spot, anymore.”

  Matt kicked at the dirt. “Yep. Really went down the crapper.”

  I moved in beside Jacob and nudged him. “Looks like we really kept this place together, hey?”

  “Definitely. I can barely make out all our spots.”

  “Shit, yeah,” Matt said. “Where’s the pier?”

  We all stopped, suddenly remembering the pier. Where other boys had clubhouses or tree houses, we had the pier; it was our rendezvous and sanctuary from the constant nagging of grownups.

  Jacob pointed to the far right, to what looked like little more than a shipwreck. “There.”

  I shook my head. Did I really expect something so good to still exist? Not in my life.

  We walked past the lake, down a narrow path Jacob assured us lead somewhere worthwhile. The shadow of the mountain swallowed the road ahead, and eventually us with it.

  Still Jacob led us into the darkness. I hurried forward. “Where are you taking us?”

  He stared forward, ignoring me. The moments seemed surreal. So out of place. Even the others seemed to walk slower.

  The surrounding trees, like black holes, seemed to feed off the last rays of light, watching us. The path grew narrower with each step, until we found ourselves stumbling over roots.

  “Maybe we should turn back,” I finally said.

  “It is getting cold,” Jacob added, “but we’re almost there.”

  Cold? It was getting dark, but it certainly wasn’t cold.

  “Almost there,” Matt’s hollow voice echoed.

  The guys were acting weird all of a sudden, and I couldn’t understand why.

  The clap of thunder drew closer.

  We continued on, my friends becoming more distant the closer we got to the mountain.

  I hit my foot against an exposed root and stumbled forward. “What the fuck, man? Where are you guys taking me?”

  “There!” Jacob called. He stopped at the foot of the mountain, in a small clearing beside a large, creeper-invested boulder.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  They didn’t answer. Just stood side by side staring at a small area off to the side, their arms folded across their chests, shivering.

  “Don’t you remember?” Caleb finally asked, his eyes still fixed on whatever he saw before him.

  “Remember what?”

  “What we did here,” Jacob said, his gaze also shying away. “What we created.”

  I tried to ignore their behaviour so I could think back. “Oh, yeah,” I said, recalling our days of slipping away from the grownups to smoke. We smoked whatever we could find, mostly spent buds. “There was a small pond here. More like a mud pit. We called it the Pits, right?”

  “It’s so cold here,” Matt spoke. “I’m going back.”

  I smiled at the boys, but they turned their backs and walked up the path. “I remember now.

  “Do you?” Jacob said.

  ***

  I sat on the couch back in the cabin, my head lost in a beer buzz. I could hardly recall what had happened after we left the Pits – how we got back, what we talked about.

  Since I already felt like an idiot, I didn’t ask. I was just happy to see my friends acting like their old selves once more. They were like little boys talking grownup.

  The fire had already been lit and the beer was flowing, yet the more we drank, the more disheartening the conversation became.

  “I never married again,” Caleb stated.

  I remember Jacob mentioning his string of girlfriends, all of them dumping him once they got to know him. His true self peeked through the veil whenever they had sex.

  Matt talked
about his one failure after the other.

  I didn’t just hear every familiar word they spoke. I felt every ounce of pain behind their words.

  “It’s strange,” I said, “that we’re all looking for happiness while also rich and successful.”

  Matt chuckled. “You so sure about that?” He was clearly talking about my choice of transportation.

  I finished another beer with one go. “But why can’t we just be happy? Fulfilled?”

  The others raised their heads in unison moments before a branch snapped outside. Somehow I hadn’t heard the first warning sound.

  “Perhaps we’re haunted by the past,” Jacob whispered in a shaky voice.

  “What?” I moved to the window.

  The others stared at each other and then at me.

  Jacob stood up. “He’s here.”

  “Who is?” Getting only vacant stares I pulled back the curtains. The window overlooked the side of the house which, although the area used to be covered in grass, now looked like the set of the newest camp slaughter movie. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark. “What’s wrong with you guys?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Caleb asked.

  Nothing but trees and shadows met my gaze, but I noticed an odd looking tree trunk in the distance, with almost life-like features. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?” I didn’t look back at my friends; not only was I certain the shadow had moved slightly, like a chest rising and falling with every breath, but they were acting weird again, like they had earlier at the Pits.

  The shadow’s hand moved, curling its branch-like fingers into a fist. First one, then the other. It took a step forward.

  “There’s someone out there, guys.” My hand shivered as the figure grew closer...larger. The weight of the drawn curtain multiplied with each passing second. I refused to look away from the shadow entity. Having it in my sights felt a lot safer than not knowing where it was.

  “Come check it out. Quickly.”

  The boys slowly moved in beside me, their bodies cold against my skin.

  The figure stopped.

  “Is it him?” Caleb asked.

  “Yes,” Jacob replied.

 

‹ Prev