by Dan Dillard
Chapter 24
After the headache died down, Ethan tried to call Em’s cell phone but got her voice mail. He felt sure she was screening calls and didn’t want to talk to him, but he left a message anyway.
“Em, it’s me. Please let me apologize. I’m all screwed up and I don’t know what else to say. Let me talk to you and I promise I’ll fix this. Please.”
It sounded desperate.
Max was right, he thought. It will take your life apart piece by piece until it has you completely alone.
Ethan grabbed some shoes and keys and went to see Max. He needed someone who would take him seriously. She was an outsider to his group of friends and would be a good sounding board—someone who could see past his feelings. He drove quickly but cautiously, and arrived there just before 8:00 PM.
Max was straightening up and preparing to close. She looked up at the ringing of the bell and smiled when she saw a familiar face. He was speaking even as he walked through the door, and he didn’t care who else might be listening.
“Max, can we talk? I need help.”
“Ethan. I guess you’re not here to return my books.”
The wrinkled smile turned into a wrinkled frown. Then her eyes widened as he got close enough for her to focus.
“My boy, you look like hell. Your aura’s all…well, it’s all fucked up.”
Ethan did a double take, surprised by her choice of words. Amidst all that was going on, an old lady swearing still stopped him in his tracks. He let out a nervous laugh.
“Sorry. My language too rough for you?”
Her eyelids were half-mast, her mouth was screwed up, and her hands were on her hips as she jokingly accused him of having virgin ears.
“No, no…just took me by surprise, I guess,” he said.
“What is it, then?”
“Something has me. Something is in my apartment and it isn’t friendly,” he began.
“Tell me more 'bout it.”
“It smells terrible. I could feel its breath on my face as it held me down in bed. I could feel the pressure on my chest where it sat.”
“Old Hag,” she said matter-of-factly, and crossed her arms.
“Old Hag, my ass. Slobber saw it, too. This was something real.”
“Fine, fine, go on.”
“It came back again, only it was moving throughout my apartment, not just interested in me. I think I caught it under my kitchen sink.”
He paused and blushed, “I tied the doors together with some string.”
She laughed out loud, “Whatever makes you feel safer, hon.”
“I’m glad I can entertain you.”
“Something is watching you, or watching your apartment, and I don’t like it. I’m not sure what it wants, shug, but it means to keep an eye on you,” she said.
“It gets worse,” he continued.
He spoke in embarrassing detail about the dream of Kay coming to his apartment, explaining to Max about how much he had wanted her and the way in which she tried to seduce him. How guilty he had felt when he awoke. That he wasn’t sure he had been asleep at all.
“I felt like I was completely awake and making conscious decisions,” he said.
“That was no dream. It wasn’t Kay, but that was no dream. You ever heard of a succubus?”
Max’s answer didn’t surprise him. He would've given the same diagnosis. She looked frightened, and was again rolling that crystal pendant between her fingers.
“Yeah,” he replied.
“You been readin',” she said, and smiled. “I’m scared for you, sweetie. This thing, whatever it is, is usin' a bag of tricks to torment you. I don’t know how such a being found you or how it came to Kay. I don't know how to help you unfind it. It sounds to me like this is a precursor, some sort of scout. I'm surprised it even let you outta the house. It must still be building strength.”
Her stare went blank again as she got lost in her own thoughts.
“What do you mean a ‘scout’?” he asked, snapping her back to the present.
“I think what you're experiencin' is some creature or series of creatures that have come before the arrival of a much more powerful being. They're testin' the waters, so to speak, dippin' their toes in to see if it's too cold before the boss jumps in,” she said.
“You mean something else is coming? What would be looking for me? I don’t understand, Max.”
“I’m so sorry you came to me for advice. I wish I could help, hon, but you’re in way over my head. I’m no mystic sorceress. You’re in for some kind of ride, Ethan,” she said, and patted him on the hand. “I only wish there was more I could do to help.”
“Me, too. What would you do?” he asked.
His voice was shaky now, and he was really getting scared.
“I honestly don’t know, shug.”
Max rubbed her stomach as if it were upset. He glanced at her and then at the wall and sighed, impatient for some relief from all these questions.
“All I wanted was to see a fucking ghost,” he said.
She perked up at that and it brought an impish little grin to her face.
“Oh! There’s that word again. I do love that word, such an attention getter!”
They laughed for a moment and then Max got back to business.
“Close the connection, Ethan. Focus on that. Banish, banish, banish.”
“I know. I even bought a Ouija board. I felt pretty damned stupid standing in line at the toy store with it, too.”
“As well you should. You need to make your own, shug.”
“You mentioned that.”
“Homemade is always more effective, just like with cookies,” she smiled.
He was being hunted by some kind creature with brimstone breath and a matching disposition. Now he could only think of cookies.
“You focus on what can be, not what was,” she said.
He looked at her with respect. “See? You are a mystic.”
He stood and started to leave.
“Ethan?”
He turned.
“Did you get any of your questions answered…from the beginnin' of your search?”
She wanted to remind him of why he was doing this, maybe find a silver lining in the clouds.
There is nothing else out there.
“I don’t know, Max. None of that seems important anymore.”
Then he turned and walked out the door, jingling its little bell, and wondered if that would be the last time he ever heard it.
