The Spaces Between Us

by Ethan Johnson

  Alphonzo struck him across the head from behind with a clay-encrusted shovel. The gun flew out of Gene’s hand and discharged. Alphonzo shielded his face with his hand, then looked around. The bullet had lodged into a cinder block. “Damn, that was crazy!” He beckoned to the cowed workers. “Get your asses over here and help me with this.”

  The workers dropped their arms and milled into the forbidden room. They pulled Gene out of the room and dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. Alphonzo bent down and picked up Sharon’s purse. She gripped her knee in agony and cried out for help. Alphonzo waved the workers off. “Back to clearing zones. We on a schedule.” He gestured for two male workers to stay behind. He peered into Sharon’s purse and found her digital camera. “What do we got here?”

  “It’s nothing. Vacation pictures.” Her stomach sank when she heard the camera turn on. A series of electronic beeps followed. Alphonzo showed the workers some of her photos. They grinned.

  “Oh, you on vacation up in here! Okay. Alright. I see how you do us. We nice to you, but you gotta be all up in our business spying on us. Ain’t that right, Greg?” One of the workers nodded. Alphonzo crouched down and held the camera out to Sharon. He nodded his approval for her to take it from him. He rooted around her purse and found her phone.

  “Aw, snap… we gonna see more vacation pictures up in this bitch, ain’t we Fred? Ain’t that right?” Fred nodded. Alphonzo swiped and tapped the phone screen. His face glowed blue as he poked around. His face downgraded to a frown, then he tossed the phone back to Sharon. Fred’s face registered an objection, but Alphonzo waved him off. “She ain’t posted nothing. She do take boring-ass vacations, though.”

  The three laughed. Sharon fumbled with the phone and dialed 9-1-1. Alphonzo pointed at her and laughed even harder. “Aw, man, you just too much. Phones don’t work so good up in here. None of us care because we didn’t use to have no money for phones anyway. And everybody we wanna talk to works here, so, we good.” He flashed a toothy grin. The phone beeped. An error message flashed NO SIGNAL.

  He crouched down and smiled warmly at Sharon. “Hey, you seen a lot of crazy stuff on vacation? I thought I seen crazy stuff too, before I work here. Missah Syed, man, he show me all kind of crazy things. He show Greg and Fred too, ain’t that right?”

  The pair nodded, gravely.

  Alphonzo waved to Greg and Fred. “Drag Hector's ass in here, man.” The pair nodded and set about dragging Hector into the room by his ankles. Alphonzo hopped back up to his feet and dropped Sharon’s purse on top of Hector. “We got to go, fellas.”

  They left the room, and the bay doors began to close. Sharon watched the drive motor whir and drive a chain up toward the ceiling and back down again, in a continuous loop. The doors banged shut, and Sharon screamed. She fumbled with her phone and tried to dial 9-1-1 again. The phone displayed a single bar of reception. She pressed the green button and waited to hear the phone ring. The overhead speakers crackled.

  She heard a voice emanate from the speakers. It was male and speaking softly in a language that she had never heard before. It wasn’t Arabic. It wasn’t Persian either. She felt her insides begin to tingle, and that sensation radiated outward. She lost feeling in her legs completely, then felt her chest tighten. Her thumb squished the phone, which was no longer operable, or recognizable as a phone. Now it was just an olive-grey lump in her hand. She raised her head and tried to inhale to scream again but could not make a vocal sound. She saw her hand turn color an instant before she lost the ability to see, think, or feel ever again.

  Greg and Fred loaded Gene into a plastic bin and rolled him toward the room that had the all-hands meeting. Red warning lights flashed across their faces as they worked. A few moments later, the warning lights stopped spinning. Alphonzo coughed and pressed a pair of buttons on the wall. The bay doors clanked open amid the sounds of whirring motors and tinkling chain links.

  He grabbed the shovel that he used to subdue Gene and set about scraping up what were once Hector and Sharon. Alphonzo blew her a kiss before using the shovel to pry her from the floor. He dropped her onto a pallet. “It’s just clay, that’s all it is.”

  He heaped Hector on top of her face-down, followed by Gene’s revolver, and used the shovel to trim away extraneous parts, trying to make an abstract wad that could not be readily identified as human remains. He carted the clay away with a pallet jack, then paused to look at the pool of blood from where Gene had killed Hector.

  Alphonzo had a fit of frustration. They were on a tight schedule, and he meant it when he had volunteered to clear zones. Now he had blood to mop up and an unscheduled delivery to make to the floor. He’d have to work faster. He’d seen what happened to others who didn’t pull their weight.

  CHAPTER 64: A DREAM OF NINEVEH

  Agnes had turned in early. Traveling long distances in an instant took a toll on her, especially twice in one day. She surprised her parents by eating an entire plate of food, but she wouldn’t have done it if she didn’t feel an urgent need. She wondered if Gracie was feeling any ill effects, but she acted normal all throughout dinner, up to and including ignoring her.

  She laid in her bed, turning over the events of the day in her mind. Marc was missing. Now his apartment burned up, and she had Gracie ditch his car to deliberately get it towed away. She had his cell phone, keys, and wallet. There would be much to explain if, or when, Marc ever turned up again.

  Her brother’s whereabouts weighed heaviest on her mind. Why was he missing? What was he doing with the candle? Why had he rearranged his apartment so strangely? Why had he quit his job so abruptly?

  Girlfriend.

  Agnes had precious little to go on. She wasn’t sure that Marc had found a new girlfriend and was wrapped up in the throes of an exciting new romance. She thought that women were attracted to men who held down jobs, not quit them without warning.

  She felt a warm sensation fill her, starting at her feet. Image was making her presence known. This wasn’t planned, but then again, neither was their prior contact at the Manor. She wondered if she should get up and fetch her notebook from her knit bag, but something gave her the impression to just lie still.

  You must know the way of Nineveh. You must learn.

  Agnes frowned. Who was Nineveh, another mentor? Hopefully a legitimate one, this time. She thought darkly about Henry and the Manor. Her thoughts were interrupted by an urgent repeating line.

  You must know the way of Nineveh. You must learn.

  She slowed her breathing and closed her eyes. She focused on the voice that goaded her on.

  Yes, I will learn. Show me.

  Black smoke clouded her sight, despite having her eyes closed. She felt weightless, yet still pressed against the bed. She felt the bed separate from her, and she floated alone in the darkness of space. The smoke began to clear, and she found herself in a luxuriously appointed bedroom, with large stone walls and gold accents. Braziers burned on either side of the bed, and guards dressed in golden armor and red capes stood stiffly to either side of the bedroom door. Agnes saw an olive-skinned female leg brush against hairy male legs, amid cooing sounds. She wasn’t particularly interested in sex, being committed to her studies, but she decided to pay attention to what she was being shown, figuring it wasn’t meant strictly to offend her sensibilities.

  “Does Inanna please her king?”

  The king smiled and brushed her cheek. “The king is pleased indeed.”

  Inanna rested her head against her palm and gave a smoldering smile to her king. “Then Inanna is pleased as well.”

  The king leaned over and kissed her. “Do not leave my side.”

  Inanna fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Where would I go? I am, after all, your captive concubine. My brother toils in fear that I might die, lest he displease you.”

  The king smiled, and they both laughed. “My captive! If only it were so.”

  “But I am your captive. Your love binds me to you, and poor Inanna cannot escape. For
Inanna’s love binds her king to Inanna, and we are trapped as one.”

  The king kissed Inanna’s other wrist. “Poor Inanna.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “Yes, poor Inanna. I cannot enjoy your mighty gardens, my king, lest my brother see me and suspect I am not as ill-treated as we have let on.”

  The king shushed her. “And what gardens they are! Your brother has outdone himself. Water flows from his cell as though the Tigris itself was its origin.”

  Inanna frowned. “How is this possible? You ordered his rations to be reduced, as I had asked.”

  The king dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. “He is of no concern to us. We have each other now. I will ask for a report from his guard and all will be known then. I’m sure he is working himself to death, and then we shall be truly free.”

  “Will not the people revolt? It is not well for a king to carry on openly with his concubine.”

  The king scoffed. “I am their king! They will accept as I command them.”

  Inanna kissed him. “Yes, your excellency.”

  The king gazed into her eyes and smiled. The room shuddered.

  The pair sat up in bed. The shaking intensified. Wisps of dust trickled down from the ceiling. The king summoned his guards. “Return her to her quarters. She must be kept safe.” The guards nodded and pulled Inanna from the bed, without regard to her state of undress.

  The king’s bedroom shuddered and creaked as she left the room. The king dressed himself hastily and ran down the hall to the closest window. Buildings were beginning to collapse. He saw a woman and child buried by a falling stone brick wall. Adrenaline shot through him and he made for the stairs. Guards motioned him through a doorway and out into the open. He turned around in time to see Tobias sliding down one of the walls of his tower, sending a shower of sand down into the ground as he descended. “What ill magic is this?”

  His guards hustled him into a building thought safe against any sort of siege. They barred the doors and crouched down beside him, swords drawn, prepared to be the last line of defense against any invader.

  Minutes passed, and the king grew fearful. “Inanna! Death to any who harm her.” The guards nodded but did not yield. Loud crashing sounds could be heard through the doors, along with shrieks and cries from all directions. Then, all at once, the shuddering stopped, and the city fell silent, save for the cries of the wounded or aggrieved.

  The king ordered the doors to be unbolted. The guards obeyed, and the king stepped out into the daylight. Rubble was strewn about, but the city still stood. Repairs would be costly, but they would be done, at his command.

  Inanna ran to the king from the damaged tower. The king brightened and took her up into his arms. “Inanna lives!”

  “Yes, your excellency, but To—my brother has escaped from the tower.”

  The king grimaced. He waved to his guards. “Find him and serve me his head.”

  The guards nodded and set off in search of Tobias. Inanna pointed to a stairwell near the closest city gate. She led the king up the stairs and onto the rampart. Her eyes darted from place to place, then she cried out and pointed. A fishing boat floated away without being piloted. They saw the form of a man lying in the bottom of the boat. “There!”

  The king began to call for his archers. Inanna stayed his hand. The king gave Inanna a surprised look. “But, my sweet Inanna, did you not tell your king that you had no love for your brother? Why do you pity him now?”

  Inanna’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “He is no brother to me.”

  The king recoiled. “‘Your king does not understand you, Inanna… why do you speak thus?”

  Inanna stepped forward and grabbed ahold of his robes. “You are no king to me.”

  She pushed him backward over the rampart. The king screamed all the way down until he struck a collection of boulders. Inanna peered over the side and smiled with sweet satisfaction.

  A pair of guards seized her. “You are not safe here. The king has ordered that we keep you in our care until he commands us personally.”

  Inanna tossed her hair and complied with the guards. “Yes, keep me safe. We shall await word from the king.”

  Tobias’s boat disappeared around a river bend as Inanna was led away.

  Agnes rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She had seen Tobias before, and how he was betrayed by the king to water his immense gardens. The woman was not as familiar to her. Then she put the pieces together that she was the woman that was being used as leverage to gain his compliance. Her heart sank, not wanting the next puzzle piece to snap into place.

  She forced herself to think the words: Show me what became of Inanna.

  Black clouds swirled around her, obliterating the scene that she had just observed. She felt lifted once more, and weightless. There was only the blackness of sheer nothingness, and then a falling sensation as the smoke began to dissipate.

  She stood on a plain beyond the city walls. She saw a lone tree, and an inky black vulture sitting on one of the bare branches. It shrieked and cocked its head from side to side. She began to approach the vulture, when she saw another figure approaching: Marc.

  He was dressed in casual clothing, not at all fitting the time or the place. Because Agnes was projecting a part of herself backward in time to view the scene, she could not interfere. But Marc had not projected. He had done as Agnes could do… but he had taken a very large step backward in time. Image was adamant that such an attempt should never be made. To know the truth about the past was one thing, altering it in any way was another. She ran to Marc’s side and dropped to his knees as he howled over Inanna’s blood-soaked body, run through with a spear. Agnes assumed that the truth of the king’s death had become known, and the blame assigned. To her horror, Inanna was not dead.

  A voice whispered in the wind, heard only by Agnes: Inanna is not so easily discarded by the hand of mortal men. For centuries Men have worshiped at the altar of Inanna, and for centuries more they shall worship Inanna still.

  Agnes gasped and covered her mouth. Marc and Inanna vanished, leaving a bloody stain in the dirt and sand. The vulture shrieked and flew away. Agnes knelt in the dirt and wept.

  Image spoke to her once more, filling her with hope and tempering her dread: There is more to be shown. Ask the question, and the answer will come.

  Agnes lifted her head from her hands and looked skyward. She thought through what had already been revealed, and what had yet to be shown to her. She wiped away tears and made her request.

  Show me what became of Tobias.

  Black clouds swirled around Agnes, then cleared. She was transported to a grand feast presided by the old man she knew as Tobit, who smiled down on his son and new bride.

  “Blessed be this union between Tobias, son of Tobit, and Sarah.”

  The guests clapped and called out in praise.

  Agnes frowned. She should have been more specific. Show me what became of Tobias, who escaped from Nineveh after being betrayed by Inanna.

  Black clouds swirled again, and now Agnes found herself in a small hut. Tobias sat alone, plotting his vengeance on the kingdom of Nineveh, and still grieving for the loss of his sister Inanna. Justice would be swift and terrible, he vowed. Tobias scooped up a handful of dirt and muttered strange words over it. The dirt became bread, which he ate silently as he contemplated his plans. He looked up with a start, as a man dressed in city garb entered clutching a scroll. Tobias spat. “Who comes to slay Tobias?”

  The man knelt and beseeched Tobias for mercy and a kind ear. “I come with good news, Tobias. Inanna yet lives, and she sends you this message and her blessings.”

  Tobias’s jaw dropped. He flung the bread aside and lunged for the scroll. “Inanna! Alive!” The messenger nodded and waited for Tobias to learn of her fate. Tobias unfurled the scroll and read it quickly, his eyes darting this way and that, incredulous at the news.

  Dearest brother -

  Do not grieve for your sister Inanna. Inanna yet lives, but
for how long, is yet uncertain. The king is dead, and his courtiers blame poor Inanna. How could she do such a thing, while captive to a cruel and heartless king such as he? I will deal with them, and if the gods smile upon Inanna, I shall be banished from wretched Nineveh, and we shall be united once more. I have found men who bear no loyalty to the dead king, and servants who shall see to your every need. Command well these men, and do as I instruct you, that soon you shall have justice, and the name of Tobias shall be exalted among the kingdom of men!

  Tobias wept tears of joy as he read and re-read the scroll. He looked to the messenger. “She speaks of men and servants. Do you know of this?”

  The messenger nodded. He gave Tobias a forlorn look. “May I rise, my lord?”

  Tobias was stunned. He waved the man up to his feet. “Yes, yes, of course.”

  “Much thanks. The men and servants are here now, my lord.”

  Tobias was thunderstruck. “I am no lord.”

  “But I do call you my lord, and I give my life to you. Loyal to the last.” He thumped his chest with his fist and bowed.

  Tobias nodded. “And you are…?”

  “Sayed, my lord.”

  “Sayed, I accept your service, and swear to you that you will be treated well. Now, I command you to take me to the men.”

  Sayed bowed and led Tobias from his hut. Two guards dressed in golden armor and red capes stood stiffly, resting a hand on their hilt of their sheathed swords. Tobias put his hand to his forehead. “These are my men?” The guards clanked to attention and stared straight ahead. Tobias reeled. “And what of my servants?”

  Four palace slaves stepped forward: three men and one woman, wrapped in simple robes. “Your servants, my lord.” Sayed waved to them with a flourish.

  Tobias staggered back to his hut. He unfurled the scroll again and re-read Inanna’s message. Having overcome his disappointment of not being blessed with a suitable army capable of laying siege to Nineveh, he allowed himself to read what had been written. Clarity crossed his face, and he called for Sayed.