Diana climbed out of her vehicle, watching dancers make their way into the street, hands cupped and catching raindrops. They walked side-by-side, six of them in all; beautiful, sensuous women with dark-lined eyes, red lips and sleek hair hanging to their waists. Mist rose from the walk, curling like phantom fingers. And the stunning city became ghostly; stores, apartment houses and the tiny church on the corner were transparent.
A kitten leapt from one of the buildings, walking beside the dancers, and then it purred when one of them scooped it up, holding it like a baby.
Diana stood transfixed, watching the sultry women as they made their way to the residential area of Talbot’s Bay. Their eyes became cat-like as a dark cloud passed over the moon. Slowly, subtly, their bodies changed into sumptuous feline forms; three tigers, two leopards and a stately lioness, flicking tails and growling softly.
She followed, rain soaking her clothes and hair, as the beings continued down the street; as wind shook tree branches.
They climbed the tallest oaks, and licked their paws, and then blackbirds cried out and demon-like creatures emerged from the ocean, appendages spiraling toward her and their eyes were blood red.
But she must have blacked out before she got inside her car, because she awakened, drenched with sweat, sprawled on the pavement next to her vehicle, with pain searing through her head. She stood, stumbled a bit, opened the driver’s door and slid inside. Something shiny, dangled on the antenna.
“My God,” she whispered. Rain trickled down glass, thundered boomed and a sequined scarf lay across the windshield.
****
It rained for two days straight, and Diana counted the hours until she’d see Tyler again, and she went back to the café at noon, but he wasn’t there. Sometimes rehearsals at Club Solomon ran late. So she waited, drinking coffee, eating teacakes, and the hours passed; and then she walked in the rain, making her way to the club, holding her breath until she saw Tyler on the stage, knelling there, rocking back and forth, unintelligible words escaping from his lips, and he clutched the grimoire.
She moved closer, smelling copper and sweat.
“Tyler, what happened?” Diana asked.
“It’s beautiful.” He turned, and for a moment madness flashed in his eyes--and then he smiled.
He tapped the book, “It’s inspiring, and if I think long enough about the drawings and spells…well, I could go crazy. I’ve taken notes, and now you can bring it back.” He rose, handed her the book, and then turned for a moment. “You did a brave thing, Diana. I think I want to drink espresso with you again.”
She brought the tome back, tucking it underneath packets of needles and spools of thread, knowing she’d finally won Tyler Bane’s attention—but not with magic—with girlish spirit and rebellion. Or had she been wrong?
8.
Nicky kissed Diana on the cheek, and then took her hand. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m a mess, Dad. Doctor gave me a script for Naratriptan. Not sure it’s helping.”
“You look like shit,” he said briskly.
“Thanks. I love you too.” Diana pulled the edge of her hat down, as though trying to hide her swollen red eyes.
“You know what I mean. This is a tough time, but you’ll get over it, and then get on with your life. These things ease up sooner or later, and we’ll get those headaches cured.” He patted her hand.
“Did you stop loving my mother?” There was bitterness in Diana’s words.
“No, not ever, but it does get better.” Nicky’s voice grew softer. “I don’t mean to sound so cold, kid. It’s just that bad times have made me tough.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you’re just plain heartless.”
“I assure you that I have a heart.” Nicky opened his arms to his daughter and smiled warmly. “Hey, I’ve missed you. If you need anything, call me.”
“Thanks.” Diana plucked a cigarette from her purse, reached into her bag, removing a silver lighter. She clicked it, a small flame flashed, and then she brought the cigarette to the orange flare. She took a deep pull, and then spoke as wisps of smoke escaped from her lips. “I’ll do that.”
Nicky tilted his head, drew a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket, and put one in his mouth. He leaned close to Diana; the tip of his cigarette touched hers. It crackled and turned orange. “I should quit. You hear so many stories about cancer.” He smiled slightly, and then took a deep drag, watching as smoke curled upward. “You’re still staying a while, right?”
“Yes, I'll stay as long as it takes to clean out the house. You'll put it in an agent's hands for me?”
Nicky nodded, and then tossed his cigarette on the ground, quickly crushing it with his foot. “Of course, I’ll help. If you want to sell any of Tyler’s art or manuscripts, I have contacts. Hey, I’m glad you’ve come home.”
“Sure, thanks, but I'm not glad I'm back on the bay--it's for all the wrong reasons." She shivered, feeling a slight chill, looked to bare trees and took in old gravestones. "You still take long walks at night…and all that shit?” She slipped the butt between her lips, allowing it to dangle, relishing the smoke and taste of tobacco.
Nicky laughed. “Yeah, I still do all that shit and more. Look, I loved Tyler, you know that.”
Diana didn't answer as her gaze flickered to the LaNeau, and then back to her father. She dropped the cigarette, not bothering to crush it.
He hesitated, measuring her for a moment, as though wondering if he should comfort her, but he retained his strong demeanor, and he merely said, “We need to talk.”
“Okay,” she blurted.
He leaned over, kissed her on the cheek again. “I’m so sorry. Tyler’s life was too short.” His eyes watered.
“It's been too long since we’ve had a heart to heart.” She felt love for Nicky fill her, despite their history.
“Yeah, in time,” he said in a deep tone.
“Bye, Daddy,” she called out, choking on her sobs, and blaming herself for what had gone down.
9.
December 1990
Rain fell hard on the day Diana and Tyler left the LaNeau. Crystalline rivulets assaulted the old structure, streaming over stone gargoyles, angels and demonic faces, chiseled on the hotel's exterior, and over relics scattered on the grounds.
Diana waved to Nicky, waited for a response, but he merely nodded, turned his back, and then moved through the hotel's open door. Heartache pierced through her, but she couldn't live her life for him—for a man who'd had little time for her years before, and who'd only invited her to live with him when Felicia died.
She’d married Tyler in a small ceremony a week before, much to Nicky’s chagrin—determined to make it work.
"Time to get out of town," she said to Tyler, who'd already made the car engine come to life.
"Yeah, let's roll," he told her when he looked to the hotel, his gaze resting on Nicky’s office window.
"I want to forget about this place, have a normal life now that we’re married," Diana told her husband.
“It might not be all that ordinary after a while.” He smiled at her, but there was sadness in his eyes. “I love you.”
“Me too.” Diana buckled her seatbelt, and then turned up the radio. “Rain’s coming down so hard it looks like night. Hey, what do you mean after a while?”
“I mean…I’m going to be a big man one day,” He chucked softly. Tyler shifted the car into drive, and then pulled away from the LaNeau. “We can catch the interstate a few miles down the road. Can’t wait to leave this place. Only good thing about Talbot’s Bay is that I hooked up with you.”
“Your parents' house. You left lots of your things there."
“We’ll be back to visit. Left a key with your father," Tyler told her.
Diana stared out the window. New England was lovely, even in rain, in winter after bursts of color had fallen from the trees, turning brown, scattering on the highway. The torrent added a dreamy effect to the landscape, splattering on the road,
and it dappled rust-colored leaves like shining jewels. Diana’s mother told her that winter was similar to death, to a soul sleeping, and waiting to be reborn.
“I visited my mother’s grave this morning. Somebody brought fresh flowers. There was a Tarot card stuck in the dirt. THE SUN. That was her favorite card.”
Tyler turned onto the highway, and then spoke without looking at his wife. “Nicky probably left the flowers and card.”
“He shocks me sometimes.” Diana slid down in her seat. “Such an odd couple, she was so mystical and he’s such a hardcore business guy. Anyway, I’m glad you're taking me out of there.”
His voice was somber. “He’s a bit of a mystic, but he hides it most times. Hey, let’s just enjoy what we have now…forget about your father for a while.”
"Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I never want to go back." She closed her eyes, exhausted from a restless night. She told herself that she was free of Nicky Bernardo, and that her life with Tyler would be perfect. It didn’t matter whether or not he became a star, but dreams often shatter and lives become dark and filled with rage.
10.
Nicky checked his watch, while leaning nonchalantly against a tree. He looked as though he waited for someone, searching faces in the crowd, and then quickly glancing at his timepiece again. And, as if on cue, a woman in a wheelchair appeared beside him beneath the towering oaks. She wore a veiled hat, and her long coat draped beyond her feet, with the edges fluttering in the wind. Nicky crouched down, took the woman’s hand and they spoke for a few minutes. Then she hit the chair’s joystick, making her way to a black limousine parked beyond the foliage. A driver appeared, and then a parade of cars obscured Diana’s view. Woman, driver and limousine were gone when the stream of traffic cleared. She seemed familiar, but Diana couldn’t place her, and she wondered why the woman didn’t approach Tyler’s grave.
Nicky turned to look back at Diana, smiling slightly, and then disappearing through tangled trees.
“Bye, Daddy”, she whispered, turning up her coat collar. It felt as though the temperature had dropped considerably since she’d arrived at the cemetery. She looked back at Tyler’s grave. Several stray cats circled it as the crowd thinned. Wind picked up leaves, scattering them across the plot, and black birds rose from branches, and then vanished into nighttime murkiness.
Diana walked away as a feeling of dread built up inside her. She thought about going back to the clinic, but there were things to do…and countless questions to be answered.
****
Bruno waited for Diana with arms crossed, his tough stance defying curious stares, and his face frozen in a cynical expression. His official position was that of Tyler’s driver and sometimes bodyguard, but he’d always been far more than that. A protector, when drink or drugs overpowered the musician or clouded his judgment, it was Bruno who calmly and unflinchingly looked after him, be it driving him home and making certain he got to bed safely, or taking him to rehabilitation centers, or from police stations, all the while doing his best to shield Tyler from the press— often partnering with Nicky in those efforts.
Now Bruno looked uncharacteristically drawn and tired, and Diana worried about him. He’d taken the murder hard, and she was certain he wrongly blamed himself for having failed to save Tyler one last time. He and her husband had formed an unshakable bond, more than employer and employee; they’d become friends, and Bruno had become family.
“You holding up, Bruno?” Diana noticed his eyes were red, and thin lines were etched around his mouth, and his forehead.
He smiled weakly. “You sure you want to go to the house?”
“We’ve got to.” Diana touched his hand. "Are you hungry? We can stop and get something?"
"I'm fine. I'll go out later. Check out the city, bring you back something, if you want."
"You're too good to me," Diana told him.
"Anything I can do.”.
"On to that horrid house then."
Bruno nodded, and then opened the passenger door. His breath smelled of tobacco, and the scar on his left cheek seemed redder, rawer on this night. A silver cross stud in his left ear gleamed, but did little to brighten his appearance.
She slid inside the Mercedes, buckled her seatbelt and sighed relief once they pulled out of the cemetery gates.
Bruno slowed when they passed a boarded up building on the side of the road, a theater marquee dangled above its aged doors. “Talbot’s Bay Theater, not sure why they don’t tear the place down. They say it’s haunted, but…”
“A place can get that reputation sitting right outside the gates of a graveyard.” Diana laughed slightly, and then took in the dilapidated building, with posters announcing movies from years ago, Mad Max and Flash Dance. The ticket booth glass had cracked in several spots. And for an instant, it looked as though a humped over figure sat there, watching them with cat-slit eyes.
“Brighter up ahead,” Bruno told her, stepping on the gas, speeding down the darkened road, past skeletal trees and crumbling buildings. He slowed down when they arrived at a well-lit area, where shops and eateries lined the street. A gas station advertised the lowest prices on Talbot’s Bay; people sat at windows inside coffee shops; and billboards, advertising fresh lobster and clam cakes, stood outside restaurants on a mall strip. From there, they cruised by a shoreline, where fishing boats lined the pier.
Christmas lights had been strung over a wooden barricade, flickering on and off, and Bruno smiled, telling Diana, “Happy lights, that’s what my mother called holiday bling. She loved December—the decorations—the way the lights sparkle.”
“We need all the sparkle we can get right now, kid,” she told him, turning to look at him. He was handsome, but in a tough and rugged way. He’d come from a poor family, raised in Brooklyn by his mother, an Italian immigrant. The remainder of his past was a series of unspoken events, an enigma he’d chosen to share only with Tyler and Nicky, and the specifics of his life remained something of a mystery to her.
Bruno was unreadable most times, but had broken down when Tyler was shot.
He seemed alone in the world, and she felt a strange kinship with him, despite a quirkiness that both amused her and annoyed her at times.
“Bruno, can you take Century Road to the house? I know that it’s dark, but it’s much quicker. No traffic lights, and not many cars.”
He nodded, and then turned onto Century Road, a narrow stretch devoid of illumination, where a few summer houses lined the beach. In the distance an aged bridge, and a towering structure beyond it, became visible.
“It’s a demon made of wood and brick.” Bruno pointed upward.
The Hotel LaNeau stood like a dark sentry, high over the ocean and Talbot’s Bay. It loomed within thickening clouds, stretching like elongated hands, reaching out from bleak, shadowy realms.
“You know, until my mother died, I didn't go there except for holidays--maybe weekends. Most other times it seemed off limits, like there were things going on at the hotel—secrets kept from me." Diana’s thoughts flickered back to childhood, to things woven from terror and haunting remembrances of her father’s darkened office, and cries piercing the silence of cold winter nights.
Now Bruno’s voice broke Diana’s contemplation. “The place is no good,” Bruno said. “You can feel it the closer you get. People see things in those woods, on top of the bridge. We should have stayed on the main road.” He made the sign of the cross. “Dio c'aiuta.”
Bruno hiked up the windshield wipers, and then told her. “I dread going through this part of the city…and the whole place gives me the creeps.”
“There’s a lot of nice things about Talbot’s Bay—the art, the shops—”
Bruno interrupted her. “Buckle your seatbelt. No lights on this road, and I might have to slam on my brakes. We’re coming to the bridge, and there are animals…other things…that hide in between the railings…and in the woods.”
Diana complied, and then took in the scenery. “Nothing much has changed,
” she said softly.
The bridge persisted on being a timeless welcome mat between stark woods and civilization. The ornate structure made Diana uneasy when they moved across it. She looked upward, noting the arch consisted of macabre carvings; women seemingly human, but with inhuman faces, and feet resembling paws. Intricate gothic figures had been carved at the very top, and etched into ancient railings on each side of the construction.
“Nobody knows who the artist was. Nicky told me that an Italian sculptor designed it, but nothing came up when I researched it on the Internet, just information about how it was reinforced in 1952,” Diana told him.
“Maybe the Devil built it.” Bruno sneered, and then slowed down at the intersection leading into town. Tangled brush, oaks and pine loomed along the road. A small animal ran across the street, and Bruno slammed the brakes, softly cursing in Italian. The creature peered at the car with glowing night eyes, raised itself up on all fours, and then quickly crouched down—looking humanoid for a moment. It stepped back into low hanging tree limbs, and then mist snaked from the earth, swallowing the being up.
“Shapeshifters,” whispered the Bruno. “People always see things in the forest, and on top of the bridge.” He made the sign of the cross. “Dio c'aiuta.”
Diana chuckled. “God help us? Oh, Bruno…how about a coyote or a bobcat, think maybe that might be a bit more likely? I mean…. I know there are legends here… you listened to Tyler’s stories for so long, and he probably filled your head with all kinds of shit.”
“Didn’t fill my head with nothing,” he answered quickly. “There've been sightings of spooky stuff for years—” He stopped short, as though he spotted something else in the woods.
“I stopped believing in the supernatural a long time ago. It’s some people you’ve got to fear. I mean…my husband was killed by a human being, not some fictional monster.”
"I know that, believe me. But maybe…hey, look…I've read some books. Those cat creatures were spotted in Providence back in the 1970's, too. Rhode Island also has its share of vampire graves, so who the heck knows? I mean, according to myth, there are demons that can shapeshift into cat creatures. Flauros is a humanoid leopard and—then there are the Lupo Mannero. They’ve been spotted in Middleport Harbor."
City at the Edge of the Earth Page 4
