Popcorn Thief

by Cutter, Leah

  Franklin shook his head. “Not unless I help ’em.”

  “I think it’s very brave of you,” Julie said.

  “And a little crazy?” Franklin asked, trying to tease, to get them out of the serious mood they were in.

  “Maybe a little crazy,” Julie admitted. She looked over him and smiled. “But I happen to like a little crazy.”

  Before Franklin could reply they were at the walkway to the tall brick judicial center. The air seemed to chill as they approached. Franklin knew it was just the AC leaking from the building, but it still made him shiver slightly once.

  “You ever been arrested?” Julie asked.

  Franklin sighed as he held open the glass doors for her. “Once. Yesterday. By Karl Metzger, for trespassing in his fields.”

  “Really?” Julie said. “Just yesterday?”

  “I’m not a criminal,” Franklin said crossly.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I was just curious,” Julie said. “I’ve never been arrested either, but I’m a cute white girl and can talk my way out of most things.”

  A long white counter bore a gold plaque that said Reception. An older, larger white woman in a blue uniform stood behind it. She barely glanced up from her report when they approached. Behind her stood a wide open office, full of desks that were empty.

  “Julie Horton,” Julie announced. “I’m here to see the sheriff.”

  “We have an appointment,” Franklin added.

  The woman opened up a visitor’s log, swung it around and slid it across the counter to them. “Sign in, please.”

  When Franklin pushed the book back to the officer, she looked up again. “Wait here.”

  Julie looked around. “It looks like a regular office,” she said quietly.

  “What were you expecting? Something with a jail cell in the front?” Franklin teased.

  “Maybe,” Julie said. “I don’t know. More gritty? Or maybe even more clean? Something.”

  “Not just an ordinary place, where ordinary people go to work?”

  Julie grimaced. “I know, I know. People say that about the ER all the time, too. They think it should look like the ones they’ve seen on TV. Not a place where just us regular folk work.”

  “I would think a hospital would be exciting, at least,” Franklin said. “You’re saving people’s lives. All I have to worry about is spilled fruit or cleaning up the aisles.”

  “It can be exciting,” Julie admitted. “But those times are rare. It’s more than just a job, but—”

  “You still wouldn’t do it if you won the lottery,” Franklin filled in.

  “Exactly!” Julie turned to smile at Franklin just as Sheriff Thompson came in the room.

  He cleared his throat. “This way,” he said, opening the door at the end of the counter for them.

  “Thank you,” Julie said.

  Franklin just nodded at the sheriff as he led them back to his office.

  “Put these on,” the sheriff instructed, holding out a box of black gloves.

  Julie slid on her gloves with a professional snap. Franklin fumbled his on, the forefingers twisted, cutting off the circulation. He could already feel his palms sweating.

  Franklin sat gingerly on the edge of the visitor’s chair, but he gave Julie a reassuring smile.

  The sheriff took a small, black notebook out of a large plastic bag—an evidence bag, Franklin realized with a start. That was kind of cool.

  “Don’t tear or attempt to destroy this, or I’ll have your heads,” Sheriff Thompson warned Julie as he handed her the notebook. “Both of you.”

  Franklin didn’t think it had been possible for Julie to sit more at attention, but she did. “It’s okay,” he said, reaching over to lay his hand briefly on her arm. “Just look at what’s written in there.”

  Julie flipped open the notebook. Franklin looked over her shoulder. The first page seemed very much like a prayer Eddie would recite, asking the goddess Bridget for patience and kindness, to open his mind and refresh his spirit.

  But the next one wasn’t about a goddess. It was addressed to a demon, asking for his whirling strength to defeat his enemies and cast them before him.

  Franklin glanced up at Julie at the same time she looked at him. She pressed her lips together and shook her head, then returned back to the book, flipping through the pages.

  The pattern repeated, prayers to the softer gods and goddesses, followed by incantations to bring forth devils and demons.

  Toward the end, Julie stopped and put her fingers toward her mouth. “Oh my,” she said. “This one. This spell. This isn’t right.”

  “What do you mean?” Sheriff Thompson asked. “It isn’t written right?”

  “No, not really. It’s—it’s twisted. All the others were separate. This is the first one that’s combined, both the goddess and the devil.” Julie shivered. “This—this is blasphemy.”

  Franklin was surprised to hear Julie use that term. Wasn’t that only for God?

  “He wasn’t a good man,” Julie said, shaking her head. “He was trying to invoke the basest spirits to do his bidding. And he…he offered a life, here. A sacrifice. To bring forth his demon.”

  “Do you think he succeeded?” Franklin asked. “Is that where our creature came from?” Was he really the one to kill Lexine? Did her death bring that creature into being?

  Julie shrugged. “I don’t know. I never really thought any of this was possible. What he wanted, what he was trying to bring forth. I mean, prayer can change the world, but I’d never thought it’d do this.”

  Franklin nodded. “Maybe it wasn’t the spell, by itself, that created the spirit. Maybe it was the combination of Lexine’s ability to see spirits, along with her death.”

  “Could Lexine call spirits to her?” Sheriff Thompson asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Franklin said, addressing the sheriff in surprise. He couldn’t call ghosts to him. “She always said they just found her.”

  “So maybe Earl Jackson did the calling,” Julie said. “And the creature found them, because of Lexine.”

  “Lexine would never have allowed Earl to call something like that on her property,” Franklin said. But maybe the businessman hadn’t done it in her living room, but while he was in his truck, parked out at the end of her driveway.

  “Earl’s body showed some signs of a struggle,” the sheriff commented. “He’d been scratched on his face, under those gouges. And Lexine had his skin under her fingernails.”

  “So they fought, first, and then the thing attacked?” Franklin guessed. Had Earl Jackson sacrificed Lexine to fully bring forth the creature?

  “I don’t think we’ll ever know,” Sheriff Thompson said. “Not unless you have some kind of time machine or magic seeing ability.”

  Franklin shook his head. “No such luck, I’m afraid. And how the creature came into being don’t really matter now. The question is, how do we get rid of it?”

  “I don’t know,” Julie said. “I’ve never known anyone who performed this kind of magic, before.” She looked frightened.

  “It’s okay,” Franklin reassured her, patting her arm again. “Would any of the others in your group know?”

  “We can ask Eddie,” Julie said.

  “Let’s get going, then,” the sheriff said. He stood up.

  “Now?” Franklin asked. He hadn’t had dinner yet, and he was so tired from his first day being back at work.

  “Now.” The sheriff paused. “I just want you to know that I don’t necessarily believe in what y’all are saying, that this is some kind of magical creature, called by this businessman after he’d killed your cousin. However.” The sheriff stroked his moustache with his thumb and forefinger. “However. Something killed Adrianna. And that tramp out in the woods. The same thing damn nearly killed you, and it beat up your other cousin pretty bad. It isn’t killing anyone else. We don’t normally have more than two, three killings a year. I need to get ahead of this thing.”

  “Then let’s go see
Eddie,” Julie said, also standing, stripping off her gloves. “We’ll pick some food up on the way,” she promised Franklin.

  Franklin sighed. But he knew the sheriff was right. This thing had to be stopped.

  But Eddie had refused her power. He suspected she’d refuse to help with this as well.

  Chapter Thirteen

  EDDIE PALED AS SHE READ THROUGH THE INCANTATION. She stood in front of the mantel of her fireplace in her living room, while the sheriff, Julie, and Franklin all sat on the white and green patterned chairs and matching sofa. She looked like something out of a movie, with her wild white curls standing on end, wearing all blue and green underwater colors, from her shirt to her skirt to the big scarf she had wrapped across her shoulders.

  “You’re saying this man may have called this thing? Truly brought it into being?” Eddie asked.

  “Maybe,” the sheriff said. He looked uncomfortable. “I still don’t rightly believe what y’all have been saying,” he said, shooting a dark look at Franklin. “But I don’t think it’s just a wild animal killing people. It’s got too much purpose. It’s got to be directed, or self-directing.”

  “Why y’all here?” Eddie asked. “What do you expect me to do about it?”

  “Do you know how to kill it, ma’am?” Julie asked.

  “No, I don’t,” Eddie said immediately.

  Franklin knew she was lying. “There’s got to be something we can do, in that place of yours, out back.”

  Eddie turned to glare at Franklin. “Even if there was, absolutely not. You may not use my sacred space for this type of work.”

  “But ma’am, we need to stop this creature,” Franklin replied.

  “Mine is a place of peace,” Eddie said sharply. “What this man brought forth is the opposite. It only hates. It consumes. It has no companions, only enemies and competitors. It’s the perfect familiar for a success-obsessed businessman,” she added with disgust.

  “Then how do we get rid of it?” Julie asked.

  “I wish I knew,” Eddie said, softening. “I truly don’t know what y’all are gonna do. But it feeds on hate. You need to approach it with love.”

  Franklin exchanged a glance with Julie. He’d told her that was what Adrianna had said, before she’d died. “But what type of love is strong enough?” Franklin asked. “I mean, love just isn’t as strong as a gun or a knife, right?” Adrianna and her lines of power ripped from the very earth hadn’t been enough. The creature had still survived.

  “It isn’t the weapon that’s been formed out of love,” Eddie said. “It’s the love. It’s gotta be great enough.” She sighed. “And I don’t love enough.” She looked at Franklin. “I don’t believe enough.”

  Franklin nodded. He glanced over at Sheriff Thompson, who had his lips twisted and pressed together hard. Franklin could practically hear the words the sheriff was saying in his head, Well, this was a waste of time.

  “Julie, dear, can you come with me, for a moment?” Eddie asked.

  Julie nodded and rose.

  “Kill it with love. Bah,” Sheriff Thompson said as soon as the two women were out of earshot. “I can’t believe she said that.”

  “It’s what Adrianna said. And Billy, too,” Franklin said.

  The sheriff paused, stroking his great brown mustache, his beady eyes staring a hole in the carpet. “You think this thing lives in Karl Metzger’s fields.”

  “Yes, sir,” Franklin replied, not sure where the sheriff was going.

  “And you’re positive it’s what hurt you, killed Adrianna,” the sheriff continued.

  “I’d swear on my Mama’s grave,” Franklin replied.

  “What did your cousin use the last time, to damage it?”

  “Rock salt, mixed with antibiotics.” Was the sheriff finally starting to believe?

  Sheriff Thompson stood up. “That’s it, then. I’m tired of waiting for it to attack again. I’m just going to get a bunch of deputies together and go find it,” the sheriff declared. “Serve a warrant to Karl Metzger, march across his field, and shoot every five paces. We’re bound to shoot it.”

  “You’re likely to get yourselves or someone else killed,” Franklin said, appalled.

  The sheriff glared at him. “It’s my duty to protect the citizens of this county.”

  Franklin shook his head. More than likely, the sheriff had just signed Franklin or Darryl’s death warrant, particularly if he and his men only winged the thing and it came looking for revenge again.

  * * *

  On the drive back into town, Julie was quiet, thoughtful. “Can I ask you something?” she finally asked as they crossed the county line, back into Wesley County. The night stretched out around them, hiding the endless fields that ran next to the road. Big semis blew by the little car, rocking it from side to side. They kept the car windows open to keep them cool.

  “Sure,” Franklin said. He’d been bracing himself for this. Whatever Eddie had said to Julie had left her shaken.

  “Is this thing really that dangerous?” she asked.

  “You know it’s killed people, right?” Franklin replied. Julie had to know that.

  “I know, it’s just—it doesn’t seem real.”

  “You saw the gouges on my arms,” Franklin said. He wasn’t sure what Julie was really asking about. She knew this thing was deadly.

  “Eddie said—she wanted me to protect myself,” Julie confessed. “She gave me her altar knife.”

  “That three-sided thing?” Franklin asked. “Damn.” He shivered. That knife had bothered him. It hadn’t killed people, but it was deadly. He just knew it. What had Lexine thought about it? Had it bothered her too?

  “I didn’t want to, but she was so insistent that I take it,” Julie explained.

  “The creature won’t come after you,” Franklin said. “It only comes after those folks who are special.” That made him happy, that Julie would be safe, no matter what.

  “So it went after Lexine, and it’ll come after you,” Julie pointed out. “What happens if I’m nearby?”

  “It only attacked Adrianna, not Ray,” Franklin said. God, he still couldn’t believe she was dead.

  “Eddie don’t really believe in this thing, you know,” Julie said. “She’s afraid that it’s a product of y’all; that your negative thoughts are why it’s manifesting.”

  “I know. She doesn’t really believe in anything.” She’d refused her gift. Which would probably keep her safe from the creature.

  Franklin didn’t think the exchange was worth it.

  “So what do you love?” Julie asked.

  Franklin sighed. He’d been thinking about that for a while. He’d loved his Mama, but then she’d died. He loved his family, when they weren’t driving him crazy.

  And he loved growing popping corn—tall stalks of corn, leaves rustling in the breeze, fine silks on the top of each cob jutting proudly from the stem. How the pale kernels grew golden in the sun and the rain. He loved the science of drying the cobs, too, slowly baking them to remove the moisture.

  Then the popping. The anticipation of the kernels, sizzling in lard, waiting until it was just right. How would the wings grow on each of the kernels? Would there be button kernels instead? How thick was the hull? Had he gotten it right?

  “Lots of things,” Franklin finally told her. “How about you?”

  “I know you’re lying,” Julie replied. “But that’s okay. We only just met. I don’t expect you to tell me. But as long as you know, yourself, I think you’ll be fine.”

  Franklin could only hope she was right.

  * * *

  “Take it,” Julie insisted, handing the knife, hilt first, to Franklin.

  “I really don’t want that thing,” Franklin said, pressing back against the door of the car.

  “Please,” Julie said, her eyes bright even in the dark. “It’ll make me feel better.”

  With a sigh, Franklin reached out and took the knife. Despite the heat of the night, it still felt cold and heav
y in his hands. “I’ll take it, but I ain’t gonna use it,” he told her.

  “I hope you won’t need to,” Julie said sincerely. She reached out and briefly touched his cheek. “Take care. Be safe.”

  Franklin pressed into her fingers. “I will. You too.”

  He stood in the center of his driveway as she peeled out. The quiet of the night came back, spiked with the music of the cicadas and crickets. A few stars shone down, breaking through the lights of the town. Yet Franklin felt restless, driven to do…something. He wasn’t sure what, or why.

  Inside the house, both Mama and Gloria were waiting for Franklin in the kitchen.

  With a loud thump, Franklin dumped the knife on the kitchen table. Suddenly, his night felt freer again.

  Worry spilled out from both ghosts, stifling and thick, setting Franklin’s back up. “What are you worried about?” Franklin asked as he took a seat at the table. “About me? Or that thing?”

  Mama and Gloria both glared at the knife. They’d both also pressed themselves back from the table, as if they was scared.

  “So it’s the knife,” Franklin said, picking it up and looking at the long blade. It sucked up all the light in the kitchen, including the ghostly glow of his visitors. Power flowed from the metal into his fingers and up his arm. The night grew still while Franklin grew stronger.

  “This knife, here, it can hurt you, can’t it,” Franklin said. He felt eerily calm, like the blade had shaved away all his usual nervousness.

  Mama slowly nodded.

  “And the creature? Can this knife hurt it?” Franklin asked. Maybe taking it from Julie had been a good idea. It sure made him feel good.

  Neither Mama or Gloria replied.

  They didn’t know.

  Maybe that was why the knife hadn’t bothered Lexine—it was just for ghosts.

  “You know I could use this thing,” Franklin said casually. “Put one or both of you out of your misery. Get you to pass on, stop haunting me.”

  Mama heaved her chest impressively, as if giving Franklin an exasperated sigh. A single word floated from her.

  Cheater.

  “Using the knife is cheating? Pushing you beyond? Instead of solving your issues? Doing my duty?” Franklin asked, his temper rising. Damn it, he was tired of all the hauntings and the creature and everything. He just wanted some kind of normal life again, where Lexine wasn’t dead, and neither was Adrianna.