The Demon Stone

by Christopher Datta

  “Can you feel it?” he said, still looking off into the distance.

  “Feel what?” she answered. She felt a flush of impatience. They were in the deep woods at night and miles from anywhere. That was enough to give anyone goose bumps.

  He stared at her. “Then you don’t understand, do you?” He snorted. “Of course, how could you?”

  Liz shivered again and knew it wasn’t the chill of the night. “What are you talking about?” She felt uneasy standing next to him, somehow threatened.

  “There are doors that no one should open,” he said, a cold bitterness in his voice. “Things you see that you will never unsee. Things you learn that you can never unlearn. There is truth beyond our ability to endure it. Bill and I found that out together. It killed him and he’s the lucky one.”

  Kevin’s face was hard and pale in the moonlight, and Liz took a step back in shock. Where the hell, she thought, did that just come from? “For God’s sake!” she said. “You’re creeping me out, Kevin.” The night pressed in around her, the flickering yellow light of the campfire pale and insignificant against the vast, crushing dark of the forest.

  “That’s enough, Dad!” said Beth. “And it’s not funny this time so you can just goddamn knock it off.”

  “You don’t understand,” snapped Kevin. He shook his head as though trying to clear it.

  “Stop saying that!” said Liz. “What don’t we understand?”

  “I thought,” he said, straining for words, “I thought I could explain. But something’s wrong.” He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes.

  “Something’s wrong, all right,” said Beth, “and that something’s you.” She sprang up and ran to the tent, followed by Hampton.

  A long silence hung between Liz and Kevin. Liz lit another cigarette.

  “That girl needs a father,” she finally said. She felt like giving him a good belt to the jaw.

  He seemed not to hear.

  And then the tightness in her chest disappeared. It was as though she’d been holding her breath and finally exhaled. What the heck was that? she wondered, oddly relieved. Why had she been so angry? Yes, Kevin was acting a like a jerk, but something was bothering him, too. Had he felt the same thing?

  Liz tugged gently on his arm to lead him back to the fire. “Kevin,” she said, “you used to talk to me. From what I’ve seen here, you don’t say much to anyone these days. I’m not sure I know you.”

  He resisted her pull a moment, then relented. They sat down again near the fire, but still the cold night air made her shiver.

  “No, you don’t know me,” he said.

  “Kevin,” she said, “what am I doing here?” She snuggled up against him for warmth, rubbing her hands together.

  “This is essential,” he said, waving his hand at the forest and the lake. “This is pure. This is what’s left when you take all the distractions away. This is where I come when nothing else makes sense. Only…”

  “Only…?” Liz continued, sensing his frustration. “Only the forest magic isn’t working for you this time?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, sweetie, it’s probably just out of order tonight. The janitor should have hung out a sign. ‘Forest Magic Temporarily Out of Order.’ I’m sure they’ll have it fixed by tomorrow.” She nudged his ribs with her elbow.

  He shook his head. “It’s not that. I was thinking about the world of our night creatures. They have nothing to do with what we think or believe. Passion is the lifeblood of our demons. It’s the hunger that drives us to places beyond reason, and that seduces us into biting onto the hooks that drag us places we never intended or wanted. I’m talking real obsession, I mean. About desire beyond control, so strong we’d kill for it, or be willing to destroy the object of our yearning rather than let someone else possess it. Sex can be that kind of lure. Perhaps sex becomes obsession more often than most other things, but it isn’t the only addiction. Not by a long shot.” He looked at her. “And it’s not just men who get caught, you know.”

  Liz squinted at him. “Well, this has taken a turn down the dark side of the force I wasn’t expecting. Is that you, Kevin Houdek? Mr. All You Need Is Love? I thought you believed in love and lovers and the ‘perfect balance of passion and wisdom,’ if I may quote you from college.”

  “If passion is the life blood of demons, love is the life blood of our angels, I suppose. It’s just…” He shrugged. “It never lasts, does it? The demon works its way in somewhere along the way, like mortality into human flesh. That’s why you think men are such bastards. We don’t last.”

  “Love is transitory but hell is forever? That doesn’t sound like the Kevin I used to know.”

  “He… got lost.”

  “The divorce?” said Liz. She wasn’t sure she should push him, but this was the most he’d said to her in months.

  Kevin was quiet a moment. He looked unendurably sad, like a child who’s lost a prized toy he knows he’ll never get back. Finally, he said, “The divorce, Africa, Bill’s death. There’s a lot more, Liz. In fact, there’s way, way too much. I got buried alive.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  He shook his head. “For more than a year now, I’ve hidden something I can’t keep bottled up forever. I’ve tried, but it breaks out. Especially at night.”

  “Is it really that bad, Kevin? You were always one of the most unflappable men I knew. I know losing Bill had to be hard but it’s been over a year now.”

  “You know what?” He looked her in the eyes and his face appeared older to her, far older than she remembered it. Centuries away from the kid she’d known in college.

  “What?” she said.

  “I’m not Superman.”

  “No?”

  “I thought I was,” he said.

  “Well, how do you know you’re not? Did you try leaping over a tall building in a single bound and couldn’t?”

  He smiled. “No, I just found I have a breaking point, like everyone. I don’t care who you are, there are limits. That was difficult to accept about myself.”

  “Men,” she said. “You all have Superman complexes, you know. Fortunately, women don’t suffer from that delusion so we cope better with limits. We simply have breakdowns and get it over with.”

  She looked up at him. “I have a great idea. Why don’t you have a good old-fashioned breakdown? You know, just spend two weeks in bed counting cracks in the ceiling and crying. I know some drugs that would really help get you through it. It would do you a world of good.”

  “Electroshock therapy, maybe,” said Kevin. “I hear that scrambles the memory. I need to lose a few memories.”

  Liz thumped her head against his chest. “Um um,” she said, “no way. I draw the line at electricity. Electricity is not your friend. Especially large amounts of it to your brain.”

  “Didn’t hurt Dr. Frankenstein’s creature.”

  “He was a monster.”

  “Not to start with. Not in the book.”

  “Stop it. You’re not a monster.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  She groaned and slowly pounded her fists against him, but not hard. “Kevin—Houdek—you—are—driving—me—effing—crazy.”

  He took her fists and held them.

  She struggled, growling. “Let me go. I need to beat you. It’ll be good for you. You need a beating.”

  She looked up and he kissed her suddenly and hard. She froze. It was the last thing she’d expected.

  After a moment he pulled back and she stared at him, wide eyed. He let go of her hands and just looked back at her.

  Finally she said, “Sweetie, I’m really confused.”

  He looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She sighed, then pulled his arm around her and leaned against him. Even after all of these years the feel of his body was familiar to her. “Never mind about sorry. Why’d you do it?”

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Well, is there someone around we
can ask who does? I really didn’t see that truck coming and I’d like to get the license plate number.”

  “I didn’t see it coming either, I guess. It’s just…” He waved his free arm at the night. “My life made so much sense back when we were together. I knew who I was and what I wanted.”

  “And what you didn’t want,” she said. “Namely, me.” She pulled back from him and shook his arm. “You know, what hurt me wasn’t that you didn’t want me.” She stopped a moment and sighed. “No, that’s not true. That hurt like a son of a bitch. But what hurt more was that you wound up with Morgan. I mean really, Kevin, why that dried-up scrawny little dictatorial controlling freak witch? Do you have a clue how much that screwed me up? For years I wondered what the hell was wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re complete, Liz. You always were. You didn’t really need me. Morgan did.”

  “Well, I wanted you, you big jerk. Isn’t that better than needing? I chose you, freely, my eyes wide open. That wasn’t good enough?”

  There was a long silence during which he would not look at her. She tugged at his arm and he said, “Bill would say that I wasn’t strong enough for that kind of love. He would say, and he did say, that I was too threatened by a woman who could choose me. If she could choose me, she could un-choose me. Someone who needed me was safer. That was Bill’s opinion. I don’t know. If it’s any satisfaction to you, he thought I should have stayed with you.

  “For myself, it just felt like I wanted to rescue someone. That was who I was and what I did. You didn’t need rescuing, Liz. You never did. Morgan, on the other hand, needed plenty of it. Back then I didn’t understand that rescuing wasn’t necessarily a good thing. In a marriage, it can be a bad thing. It turned into a very bad thing with Morgan, so bad that even I quit. Just another in a long string of failures.

  “And then you were here tonight. You are strong, Liz, despite all your protests to the contrary and your love of all things comfortable. You’re stronger than you probably know and that felt good tonight. I know you want to help and something in me reached out to that.”

  “Why does being strong make me so miserable? I could be weak. I’m sure I could. Just wait and see.”

  “No, you couldn’t.”

  Liz sighed and kissed his hand on her shoulder. The night had grown steadily colder and she pulled up the hood on her sweatshirt. “I’m still confused, Houdek,” she said grumpily. “We’ve never gone down this road before tonight. I guess I avoided asking too many questions about Morgan. It seemed best to keep away from it. Now you’re divorced and you kissed me. What am I supposed to do about that? Give you a kick? Melt in your arms? Play hard to get? What is it you want? I’ve got to tell you, kid, you’re in a strange way right now and I’m not sure I trust you. But I love you and I always have, you big jerk.”

  “We have quite a bit of time here. Let’s just see how things go. There’s still a lot I have to tell you. You might change your mind about me.”

  “That’s not an answer to all those questions I just asked you.”

  “I’m short on answers of late.”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “I love you too, Liz. Can that be enough for right now?”

  “Oh, shut up.” She pushed her back into him and pulled his arms tighter around her.

  Part III

  This Hard Land

  Chapter 1

  Africa

  Diallo sighed at Mosquito’s command to bring the boy, gazing longingly at his plate, then shrugged and left the table. A few minutes later he returned with a frightened child in tow. The boy looked to Kevin to be about nine. Diallo placed him between Mosquito and Bill, then returned to his seat to continue his meal.

  Mosquito looked at Joku but the boy would not return his gaze. Instead, he hung his head, staring at the table. His hair was cut short, his clothes tattered and dirty. He was very thin. Tears rolled down his cheeks as Kevin watched him and his body trembled.

  “I hear you’ve been a bad boy, Joku,” said Mosquito. “Is that true?”

  Joku didn’t respond.

  “Is that true?” Mosquito repeated, a harder edge to his voice.

  The boy nodded.

  “You see,” said Mosquito to Bill and Kevin, “Joku is the son of a wealthy family. We killed his parents but took him to work, to redeem himself. For the first time in his life he knows what it means to work, like the rest of his countrymen. He digs for diamonds. Do you work hard, Joku?”

  Again, the boy nodded silently.

  “But as you say in your country, Mr. Bill, the apple never falls far from the tree. And today Joku was caught stealing, just like his father stole from our people to enrich himself. Did you steal, Joku?”

  The boy shook his head vigorously, his lips drawn back in a grimace. Mosquito’s hand shot out and slapped the boy on the side of the head, hard. He cried out but stood still, his head down.

  “Don’t lie!” said Mosquito. “Isn’t it bad enough that you steal? Is there any crime you do not commit? Did you steal today?”

  Slowly the boy wrung his hands, nodding.

  “What did you steal?”

  “Diamonds,” the boy said quietly.

  “Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

  “I stole diamonds, sir,” he said into the table, louder.

  Mosquito held out his glass and it was filled with scotch. He took another long drink, smacking his lips. “So, you tried to steal from us just like your father. You still have not learned how to be an honest man even though we spared your life.”

  “That’s enough,” said Bill. “He’s a kid. He looks like he needs something to eat.” Bill grabbed a plate and ladled food onto it.

  Mosquito struck the plate and sent it flying against the wall, where it shattered. With a quick sweeping motion of his arm he cleared a space on the table before him, sending glasses and more plates crashing to the floor. He grabbed the boy’s right arm and slammed it onto the table.

  “What the hell are you doing?” said Bill. He half rose from his chair. Soldiers, stationed just outside the doors, stepped quickly into the room and stared menacingly at Bill.

  Mosquito smiled, holding tightly to the boy’s arm. The boy stared up at Mosquito, terrified.

  “We’re punishing him. You punish bad children in America. I’ve seen the movies.”

  At that moment, Kevin knew what the punishment was going to be. He could see in Bill’s face that he knew it, too.

  Bill reached for the box of diamonds that Mosquito had offered him. “Here,” he said, “take these. And Kevin’s, too. I’m sure that’s more than this boy took. Call it even.”

  Mosquito chuckled and shook his head. “You do not understand,” he said. “Bad behavior must be punished. If not, the other workers will see that stealing brings profit and goes unpunished. In the end, if you spare this one, you will hurt more boys by a bad example. It is you who will cut off the offending arm of this boy. It’s the punishment recommended in the sharia.”

  “You are not a Muslim,” said Bill. “Everyone knows you’re a Christian.”

  Mosquito shrugged. “All religions have great truths. Brother Qadaffi taught me much about Islam and many of my own people are Muslim. Hindu, Muslim, Christian, I learn and take from them all.”

  Mosquito nodded to one of the soldiers, who took the boy’s arm and held it firmly on the table. From the soldier’s belt Mosquito unhooked a machete. He pulled a pistol from his own and trained on Bill as he held the machete out for him. Bill refused it. The boy began to wail but could not struggle away from the iron grip of the soldier.

  “I will not,” said Bill. He was standing, his hands clutched tightly at his sides and his face set against Mosquito. “I saved the life of your daughter. You owe me. A life for a life.”

  “That is why I want you to do it,” said Mosquito. “You’re a doctor. I’m sure with your skill the boy will live. If one of my men does it he could easily bleed to death. It is for merc
y’s sake that I give the task to you.”

  “And if I do not?”

  “Then I’ll kill you.” Mosquito shoved the point of the machete hard into Bill’s stomach. “Let us see if you are really different from me. I think you will do what you have to do, the same as me.”

  Mosquito set down the machete and signaled for the scotch. Snatching away the bottle, he took a long drink and then offered it to Bill. Mosquito was showing signs of extreme intoxication and he swayed, smiling, the lights reflecting brightly off of his sunglasses.

  Bill took the bottle, drank from it, and then took the machete Mosquito again held out for him. He looked at Kevin and their eyes locked. In his face Kevin saw anger, fear and an apology for bringing him there. But mostly Kevin saw a rage that seemed to shake him. It was so different from the Bill that Kevin knew, the caustic and often sarcastic but never hateful man he had grown up with. Kevin saw him struggling to control himself. They both knew the boy was doomed no matter what Bill did.

  Kevin was paralyzed, fearing Bill would not do it to save himself while simultaneously disgusted in knowing he certainly would do it to save his own.

  Bill looked down at the boy’s arm, raised the knife and looked into Mosquito’s eyes. “Freedom,” he growled, swinging the blade at Mosquito’s head.

  Mosquito fired. Drunk and unsteady as he was, it was still point-blank and Bill was thrown back from the force of the bullet smashing into his chest. He hit the wall and collapsed. The machete clattered to the floor beside him and Mosquito stooped to pick it up. He stood, raised the blade and dismembered the boy’s arm just below the elbow.

  Kevin thought the boy shrieked but he didn’t really remember. Kevin tried to get to Bill, but two soldiers held him firmly as they dragged him from the room.

  Still holding the machete, Mosquito charged toward Kevin at the door. He swayed before him, sneering. He was furious Bill had refused to strike the boy. He held the knife against Kevin’s stomach and shoved it, hard, but only enough to begin to cut him.

  “Your fucking friend wasn’t so smart, was he?” Mosquito hissed. He thrust his face into Kevin’s. “How about you? Are you smart? Do you think you’re superior to me?”