Snapdragon Book I: My Enemy

by Brandon Berntson

  Buzzing wasps hovered outside the front door. Hailey watched them rise and dip out of sight from where he sat on the sofa. A mouse scampered from one end of the living room to the other under the front window. A cooking pot with two-day-old macaroni and cheese sat on the coffee table with several flies crawling around inside. Hailey couldn’t remember making the mac-and-cheese.

  He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and blew smoke above his head. He took a drink, flicking ashes onto the couch.

  Hailey shuddered—for some God-awful reason—thinking about his wife naked, and took another drink. What did she do at night? Where did she go? What willing, miserable sap had she coerced into bed? Probably had to shoot him full of tranquilizers, then tie him up just to get him to cooperate.

  He wished she’d just leave, take everything he owned. He didn’t care. Just go. Maybe then, he’d find some peace. Thinking of her ruined his buzz anyway.

  “I found that boy,” he said. “That’s right. Me. Hailey P. I’m celebrating!”

  He’d found Sadie two weeks ago now. He was still celebrating, imagining the press taking his picture: “How exactly did you find him, Mr. Patterson? Were you drunk then, too?” Hailey giggled. “Yes, I was drunk then. I’m drunk all the time! What’s it to you, Suzy-Q?”

  Pulling him from his inebriate paradise, Tanisha, the tank, suddenly bulldozed through the front door, making the screen door bang. He hadn’t heard the car pull up. Three-hundred pounds of rolling flesh made the ground tremble, face as red as a fire hydrant. She wore the same clothes she’d had on the night before: a thick denim skirt, high heels, and a thin, white blouse. Her ample bosom threatened to rip the blouse apart, and Hailey wondered if she were holding several pleading, suffocating hostages in there for ransom.

  Better than no clothes at all, Hailey thought, and shuddered, wondering how the heels supported her.

  His party was officially over. He was hoping to be alone today. He’d have to go into town and buy another bottle just to get the sight of her out of his mind. He saw it in her face. He was surprised she could fit through the door. She blocked out the sun. Or were those clouds? It might as well be winter, Hailey thought, with the sudden chill in the air. Good Lord, where had that come from? A breeze had come through the door when she walked in. Did you bring the blizzard of ’82 with you, too? he wanted to ask.

  Boom-boom-boom! went the tread of her feet across the living room floor. Hailey imagined a comical sight of himself bouncing off the couch and onto the floor with the quakes she made. Her big round face was red and glossy from heat and alcohol, devoid of make-up. Her hair was mussed. Hailey, for the third time, tried suppressing a shudder, and failed.

  “I thought whales were confined only to the sea,” he said.

  “Drunk again?” Tanisha said, putting her hands on her hips. “Well that’s no surprise, is it? What did I tell you about drinking in the house?” Tanisha’s voice was deep and mannish; it added to the quake.

  “Why don’t you go stand in front of a wrecking ball? This is my house, and I’ll drink in it anytime I want. Who the hell do you think you are anyway? Do they still feed you peanuts at the bar?”

  “Oh, aren’t you funny?” she said.

  Tanisha could stand it for only so long. Hailey always made comments about her weight, especially when he’d been drinking, and they didn’t waste any time picking up where they’d left off. Hailey insulted; Tanisha got physical.

  She reached over and grabbed the glass of water from the niche in the wall, throwing it at him as hard as she could. Hailey did a comical, flighty dance, trying to protect himself, spilling several mouthfuls of Johnny Walker onto his shirt. The wind from the glass sailed past his face. The glass shattered on the wall, and several droplets found his cheek.

  “Are you crazy!” he shrieked. “You almost cracked my head open!”

  “Good,” she said. “Trying to do society a favor!” Tromp-tromp-tromp, she stormed into the kitchen, massive pendulums dangling at her sides, hands the size of bowling balls.

  She was just getting started. She came out of the kitchen and threw the toaster at him. It missed, crashing against the wall in an explosion of springs, cheap metal, and broken plastic.

  “There goes your lunch!” he screamed, rising from the couch, protecting his bottle. “It’s a wonder you haven’t eaten the refrigerator, yet! Boom-boom, Dragon God! Breathe fire!”

  Letting out something very much like a dragon roar, Tanisha wailed at the top of her lungs. “Don’t talk to me that way, you drunk!” she screamed. “Everyone in town knows you’re drunk all the time, Hailey Patterson! They can smell you from the bar! They get sloshed just taking a whiff!”

  “That’s just the smell you leave behind!” he fired back.

  Tanisha let out another roar. “Want me to tell you how good I was last night?” Tanisha said, opting for jealousy. “How many men asked to take me home?”

  “Are they blind or just stupid?” Hailey shot back. “I guess there’s no difference between you and a Mack truck, is there?”

  “Plenty of people want me, Hailey Patterson! I’m good to men. I know how to treat them.”

  “That’s cause you kill them quick when you get on top! At least you’re contributing to society!”

  “AHHHHH!” she roared again, and charged.

  Hailey protected his bottle of Johnny Walker, holding it close to his chest. He moved to the front door, and bolted outside, the screen door banging shut behind him.

  “Clean up that mess!” he cried. “Or eat it! I don’t care!”

  Tanisha didn’t follow. She was still screaming, however, and Hailey felt slightly victorious, which added to his celebration. He took a deep breath, stole a look over his shoulder, and saw her through the living room window, moving into the kitchen. Hopefully, the war was at a lull, and he could relax. Part of him actually enjoyed these moments, as sadistic as that was. Maybe they loved each other after all.

  Hailey looked at his bottle of Johnny Walker, making sure it was still full. Her unfaithfulness warranted all the insults he could muster. She deserved it.

  He sat down in the rickety porch swing surprised it hadn’t broken yet. He stole glances over his shoulder, seeing if she were sneaking up behind him. He took a long drink, giggled to himself, and looked over the junkyard that was his front lawn.

  “My lawn,” he said. “Daddy gave it to me! You can move out, you wildebeest.”

  Putting a hand to his neck, thinking she might’ve gotten him with a shard of glass, he forgot about the tirade, and caught his breath. “Damn, it’s hot,” he said.

  But just like that, the alcohol couldn’t warm him suddenly. The weather had been hot seconds before, but now, in a flash, it was unbearably cold. Hadn’t the same thing happened when Tanisha waltzed into the house, bringing a drop in temperature? What was with the weather lately?

  An arctic blast moved through the air, embracing Hailey from head to toe. Forgetting about his wife, he looked up and noticed—much to his dismay—thick clouds swirling in an awesome vortex above his house. The wind began to blow.

  Have to lay off the sauce, he thought.

  Hailey looked at the bottle of Johnny Walker and set it on the porch, his humor vanishing in an instant.

  Something gathered shape at the edge of the lawn where the junkyard ended. Hailey stood to get a better look.

  So, you want your picture in the paper?

  Hailey understood. The thing fed off wishes, preyed on hopes and dreams.

  Fears, too. Welcome to the show.

  “Okay,” he said. “Maybe I should slow down on the sauce just a little.”

  Wind whipped at his hair, forcing him to stumble backwards. The bottle of Johnny Walker tipped over, gurgling out the last of its contents. It rolled off the porch and down the steps. Hailey could just make out Tanisha from the corner of his eye rifling through kitchen drawers, banging pots and pans, still furious. She had a score to settle. Hailey shielded his eyes from the sudden gusts
of wind, trying to see what was coming to life beyond the yard.

  The sky was gone. Not a shred of blue remained.

  In the lightning flashes, a magician conducting a supernatural magic show—a skeletal figure in a hat and cape—nodded a single time from the edge of the lawn.

  Hailey’s last comedic thought was, Is the circus in town?

  “Honey,” he called to his wife, eyes locked to where the figure stood. “You’d better come out here a minute! I think someone wants to talk to you!”

  If he could get her to take his place, maybe he’d be spared. The magician beyond the yard seemed to agree.

  Darkness. An eternity of lovemaking with your unfaithful wife. But it won’t be quite the darkness, you understand. We’ll shine lights, so you can see her every second, wrapped in her loving, massive arms. I believe you said she was a Mack truck.

  The phantom manipulated the house as well. Lights flickered on and off, hampered by a sudden storm. A lunatic garbling entered Hailey’s thoughts, twisting his comical perception inside-out. He felt imprisoned. The worst of his fears came true. He wanted victory over his promiscuous wife. He wanted to show her who was boss, who was running the show. Without him—

  It is eternal, unchangeable. You’ll like it here. There are others like you.

  Behind him, eyes seemed to stare from the windows, small hands pressed to every inch of glass.

  The screen door opened. Tanisha emerged, her face a vicious snarl, teeth and jaw bent on revenge. Hailey didn’t understand what had happened. She grabbed his hair, yanked his head back, and ripped a kitchen knife across his throat. Blood sprayed the front window.

  “How about that?” Tanisha wailed, louder than the storm. Hailey’s eyes stared in stunned disbelief. “Think you beat me? How do you like it? Feels good, don’t it? Nothing but death for you, you sonofabitch!”

  Hailey stared into blackness, then fell forward. Blood pooled around his head.

  Just as quickly, it came after Tanisha. She didn’t understand it, either. She’d listened to the voices, did what they told her. The knife had turned against her…only now it was something worse.

  She was still gloating over Hailey’s death when the shadowy claws dug into her flesh.

  The next thing she knew, she was falling forward, a bleeding heap next to her husband. She made a loud crash when she hit the porch. Comforting him on the long journey into darkness, her hand fell atop Hailey’s and rested there, star-crossed lovers with nothing but eternity to express their undying devotion.

  iii

  The Dark World was brewing. It gathered and grew stronger. Mattie McCall became part of the Dark World as well. She had ghosts at her side. She understood that dark manipulation. To her, it was simply beautiful.

  Mattie McCall spared a thought for ghosts.

  Sadie was here, and he beckoned to her. Death was paradise, a place to roam, forget the trials of existence, of being alive. All that was gone now. Death held a new breed of wailing souls to suffer beside. Anguish was a good thing here. In the land of the dead, she’d be happy. Sadie told her this, and Mattie, like a good mother, listened.

  Life with her family lay just out of reach. It looked eerily familiar…didn’t seem real.

  None of that matters now. You’re here with me, with us. You can leave all that behind. Bigger and better things await you, Mattie dear.

  Blackness entered her brain, erasing every memory she’d ever had.

  Bony fingers massaged her skull, dark dreams coming true. A hand reached through slimy soil and grabbed her ankles.

  Mattie embraced these visions, something she would normally recoil from. But not anymore. She was a changed woman, and she believed it had something to do with…

  Love.

  Don’t concern yourself with dead things, dear. What’s the use?

  A thick tongue licked her ear. Someone put a hand to her back, ushering her down a long, dark corridor. Why was it so cold? Was that part of the promise, too?

  She never saw much. She heard the voices, felt the cold, a whirlpool of chaos gathering above her.

  Mattie shook her head. She stepped forward into the arms of timelessness. It kissed her on the cheek, lips like papyrus. Faces were clear in the fog. This was not her home. Darkness shadowed her spirit, guiding her deeper into the cold.

  A child (Sadie) sang a demented lullaby. A girl? Finally. She’d always wanted one, the stupid house full of nothing but boys. What about her? When could she finally have something for her?

  You can have whatever you want here, Mattie dear. All you have to do is ask.

  Okay, Mattie thought. Okay. But only this once.

  Sadie called to her, and Mattie reached out, taking his hand, but it didn’t feel like Sadie’s. It was the hand of a demon, a thing made of darkness, blood, and bones.

  That’s okay, she thought. Because demon’s need love, too.

  Mattie went willingly. They needed her, her devotion and care.

  Why waste time on your family, when you have all this love to go around?

  Love. Yes. Love for dead things.

  Mattie McCall had love to give. And they were right.

  There was plenty to go around.

  iv

  Austin McCall thought if he hadn’t turned to the bottle, he might’ve saved his wife. If he had never picked up that first drink, she’d still be here. It was all his fault. Everything. His letting go, Sadie’s death, Mattie, and now Rudy.

  Only two weeks had passed since Sadie’s death, but it was enough to lose his wife to madness. His youngest son was gone now, too. Was Rudy next, or himself for that matter? Was some abhorrent thing waiting to take them one by one? If he wasn’t careful, he was going to lose his entire family.

  Drinking made his remorse superficial, fake tears, hypocritical. Austin could stand the sorrow for only so long now. What had he been thinking? He had to put things in perspective.

  Selfish bastard, he thought, thinking of his two-week binge.

  Shaking his head, he stood up from the recliner, reaching for clarity. He had a family! He had to salvage what was left! Wasn’t it worth salvaging? Wasn’t it worth his time and effort?

  Hope. For Sadie’s sake…if nothing else.

  For Sadie.

  Austin picked up the bottle and took it to the sink, pouring it down the drain. He turned his head, wincing at the smell. Sadie was dead, and nothing would change that, but he had a responsibility as a father and a husband.

  Mattie terrified him. She was talking to herself, acting as if he weren’t even there. When he tried to get through, she seemed to be in another world, one he couldn’t get to no matter how hard he tried.

  Oh, really. You call that trying? Is that what you’re doing? Just what is this action that makes trying so obvious?

  Sadie’s death was tearing the family apart. That was obvious. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to Rudy. Wasn’t Sadie’s death enough? Was it going to get worse?

  Yes, he decided. He was tired. Tired of the whole rambling roller coaster.

  He turned on the faucet, washing the remains of the alcohol—with the smell—down the drain. He buried the bottle deep in the trash. That’s it, he thought. No more.

  You’re still a father and a husband, in case you forgot. Remember. You still have a family. You should be proud of that. You have a reason to be thankful. Did you think it would be paradise from beginning to end? Mourn. That’s fine. Mourn all you have to. Love your lost boy. But love your family, too.

  He was desperate, but he knew what he had to do. The idea terrified him. Things spun dangerously out of control. Rudy was out there somewhere. Could he blame the boy for wanting to avoid this manic, depressing atmosphere?

  So, Austin thought, one thing at a time. Just take things one at a time.

  He had to get Mattie to accept the inevitable. He had to get through. Yes, their son was gone. But his death didn’t mean they all had to fall apart! What would Sadie think?

  Austin
walked upstairs to his bedroom, taking the steps slow, his hand on the banister. Mattie was talking to herself—

  “That’s just what I was telling him, but he never listens,” she said.

  Austin paused.

  “Your hand is cold, but I think I’ve got just the thing—”

  Austin reached the top of the stairs and made his way to the bedroom. Mattie faced the window, talking to someone outside…beyond the realm of the house. She was grinning.

  Austin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them a second later, he walked inside, saying a silent prayer to himself. A sharp jab pierced his chest when he looked at his wife. Mattie did not notice him.

  The sight merited all the dread he felt.

  He was too late.

  Guilt crept into his heart. He could’ve prevented this. Still, he couldn’t allow those thoughts to take control. He had to have hope. Hope would bring them back.

  Looking at Mattie, however, made him realize how futile that hope was. She was gone. He saw that clearly. And dear God, how had it happened so fast?

  He forced himself to stay strong. He approached his wife, putting his arms around her.

  Do you remember this? he thought. The first time we danced? When we held hands? We went to that goofy high school reunion, remember? I held you just like this then. Remember? You told me you knew right then we were gonna get married, and my heart just about burst with joy! It floored me. Do you remember that, Mattie? You remember that night under that cheesy disco ball, and that old eighties retro music? God, you stopped hearts then. You stop them still now. You remember that, pancake?