by A. R. Braun
Don sobbed.
Fay stroked his hair. “Poor Donny. Him had a bad dream, didn’t him? There, there, it’s all right.”
Don pulled away and wiped his eyes with his fingers. “I apologize for being such a baby.”
Fay touched his cheek. “No, lover.” She smiled. “I’ve had some doozies, believe me.” Fay covered his face with kisses — his forehead, then his cheeks and his lips. “We can buy a throw rug to cover up the burn marks. Don’t cry, baby.”
Don melted, then remembered his god’s visitation.
I don’t feel like doing anything today. It’s Sunday. I guess church is out. I’ve been thinking there must be a God because someone’s helping me. Apparently, it’s not Jesus.
“I’m… all right,” he almost whispered. “You want me to take you home?”
Fay sat on his lap, shook her head and lifted his chin with her index finger. Her eyes sparkled with love. “You shape up, Mister. You’ve got a lot to live for now.” She gingerly patted his cheek. “Let’s go buy a rug, some plants and whatever else this place needs. I’ll even pitch in.”
Don wasn’t up to it. After the shock, he just wanted to be alone, to think, to what? Go crazy? “I’m a bit tired. Why don’t I just take you home and — ”
“Do not decline the invitation,” The Not said. “Tell her to throw her clothes on. Then pray out loud for the strength and the joy to get through the day. Do it now, or die. No servant of mine will sit around feeling sorry for himself.”
Fay raised her brow, then narrowed her eyes. “What’s wrong? You’re as pale as someone who’s just seen a ghost.”
Don forced a smile.
Not a ghost, exactly.
“Nothing,” he answered. “You’re right. Go ahead and get dressed, and we’ll shop the day away.”
Fay turned up the corner of her mouth, then squealed and stood. “Ooh, that’s my Donny! I’ll be right back.” She hurried toward the bathroom.
Don felt stupid.
Better stupid than dead.
He clasped his hands together and forced himself to say, “Great God, The Not, lift my mood and help me enjoy the day. Heal my nerves and strengthen me. Help me to keep winning the heart of Fay, my dream girl.”
“Done and done.”
Blissful, Don stood. He jumped up and down with glee. It was as if he’d chased a joint with a six-pack of beer. “Praise The Not,” he said, sotto voce. Then he headed toward the bathroom.
Fay came out dressed. She grabbed his sides and forked him a wicked look, then nuzzled him with her nose. “Ooh! You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, baby.”
Don hugged her, gently pulled away, then kissed her. “I feel like a shower.”
Fay put her hands around his neck. “You feel like a shower? Well, you look like a man to me.”
Don forced himself to laugh at the corny joke.
Fay released him. “Go for it.”
“Be right back, babe.” He walked into the bathroom and shut the door.
Fay knocked. “Donny? I’m gonna watch that cute movie again.” She giggled. “Or should I come in there and rape you?”
Don chuckled. “Getting clean so I can get dirty again, huh?”
Fay laughed. “You’re so funny! Hey, when you’re done, let’s go out for breakfast. I want hash browns, pancakes, bacon and toast. Ooh, and a tall glass of chocolate milk. I’ll buy. Whadya say?”
Don stepped into the shower. “That’ll work.”
“I’ll bring you your clothes when you’re done. You’re gonna love that kick-ass shower massager. It’s all that and a bag of chips. Enjoy!” She pitter-pattered away.
Fay was right. The shower massager was all that. The hot water invigorated him. Don lathered-up and enjoyed the most refreshing shower of his life. He actually found himself whistling. He even sang “My Girl.”
“You shall never be shriveled.”
***
The deity cackled lightning as a storm began to brew. Then he remembered Don’s plans and withdrew the tempest as a false alarm. He hung his head upside-down and looked through the French doors, checking out the woman who sat in front of the TV and giggled like a schoolgirl.
Just the velocity the paleface needs. I can make her spray come for a lipstick lesbian should he desire a threesome. I can make her shower a group of cheerleaders with her joy juice, should he lust for hedonistic orgies. I could kill her and give him a better woman. I could make her bleed rust. I could make her shit bricks and piss razors. I could make her explode like a firecracker. I could melt her flesh like wax. I could make her fuck a squirrel. I could make her suck off dogs and horses.
Hmm, I could fuck the white woman myself.
As he raised his enormous head and looked over Father Sun, The Not shivered with excitement. He shat a pile of scorpions onto the roof. Black crows surrounded the deity in a perfect circle. He exhaled, and the sun grew brighter. The clouds retreated from it like cowards.
Tonight, I’ll order him to beckon my presence and ask me to bless everyone in the city, in order to get by the binding spells of the Pueblos and fill this town with my power. Then I’ll unleash my destruction on these country thieves, as well as on the modernized Indians.
When my will is done, devastation will seem like a blessing.
CHAPTER 11
Don and Fay laughed as they stored items after their afternoon at the mall in Albuquerque. When everything was put away, they ate lunch on the stone picnic table in the courtyard, then he took her home when she complained of fatigue.
The next day, on his lunch break, Don was on his way back to work when he spotted a store selling Native-American artifacts, just the kind of items he’d been looking for. He parked on the other side of the street because the spaces by the store were full, and a tire blew as he pulled into the parking space.
“Shit.”
It was his, no doubt about it. Don got out and searched the left side — no bad tire there — so he looked over the right side and found the culprit. He’d blown the rear tire.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Don stomped over to the trunk and unlocked it, grabbing the donut tire and the jack.
An obvious Native American man with long raven hair peppered with gray came out of the Pueblo artifact store. Wearing a traditional tribal outfit complete with tassels and beads, he looked Don over, then yelled, “Need some help?” in a heavy accent.
Wow, what do you know, a real Native American after all!
Don thought he had it covered, but was anxious to talk to him. He waved him over. “Sure.”
A delivery truck bore down on the Native American as he started to cross the street. Don wasted no time. He dropped the donut and jack, sprinted into the street, dove and knocked him into the gutter before the truck could run him over. Don got up and offered his hand. He shielded his eyes from the sun with the other hand.
The Native American shook his head, blinking. Wide-eyed, he looked at Don. “Many thanks to you, white man. You saved my life.” He took Don’s hand, stood and wiped the dirt from his outfit. The fall had knocked a moccasin off. He retrieved it.
Then the Native American furrowed his brow, scowled and backed up to the sidewalk.
Don followed him. “What’s the matter? Are you all right?”
The Native American man pointed him out. “Stay away! You welcomed him!”
Don stopped cold. “Welcomed who?”
“You know who. The evil deity.”
Don wondered how he could know about that. Having his secret nakedly revealed worried him more than he wanted to admit.
What does he know that I don’t know?
“DON’T LISTEN TO THAT SQUAW BITCH. I’LL KILL — ”
The Native American uttered angry words in his native tongue that Don didn’t understand, perhaps a binding spell? Sure enough, the deity shut his trap.
Don approached the stranger again. “Please don’t be afraid of me. You just rebuked a dangerous god, didn’t you?”
&n
bsp; The Native American fixed his eyes on him. “He helps you, but doesn’t reveal his true nature, I assume.”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been having great luck lately. The spirit is scary though: horrifying, actually.”
The Native American put a comforting hand on Don’s back and guided him toward the store. “Come inside. We have much to talk about.”
Don nodded and went with him. After they walked through the glass door with a wooden frame, the Native American flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED. He led Don to a table by a totem pole as tall as a basketball hoop.
The red man stuck out his hand. “I am Running Bear. I refuse to call myself what the white man calls me.”
They shook hands.
“I’m Don. You know, I’m real glad to meet you. I’ve met some natives in this town that are a disgrace to your people.” He wiped sweat from his brow. Apparently, Running Bear didn’t believe in air-conditioning. The scents of must and ancient fabrics wafted over to Don.
“They gave in to the white man and sold their pride, running casinos and driving Camaros. Don’t think I don’t know.” Running Bear released his hand, motioning toward the chair. “Sit.”
Don sat. He admired the beaded necklaces and the dream catchers. “Are you in a tribe?”
Running Bear nodded. “Pueblo of Santa Ana.”
“Where do you meet?”
“We’re located at 2 Dove Road, along the Rio Grande.”
“Wow, that’s awesome! I’d love to come to one of your ceremonies sometime.”
“You’re welcome to come.”
Don smiled. “Thanks, I will.”
Running Bear Indian-sat in the chair and pinned him with his eyes. “I saw the deity with you, hovering over you like a father. He means you no goodwill. He is a deceiver who was sent to tempt the earliest Indians, much like Satan tempted Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden in your Christian Bible. Humanity was meant to live in perfect harmony, but this evil god emerged to separate man from his Creator. He is an interloper, and his purpose is to create strife.” Running Bear paused, as if deep in thought. “Out of all the spirits we Keresan Indians fear, the one you’ve chosen, or I should say the one that’s chosen you, is the most infernal. You must renounce him before he destroys you, along with the human race.”
“Are you sure you’re talking about the right spirit? He helps me. I’ve never been a success in my life, but now everything goes my way.”
Running Bear nodded. “That is what he wants you to think. He helps you at first, then plans to destroy the world. You must put the spirit from you. If you don’t, we will all die.”
Don looked at his hands.
How can I? I’ll lose Fay, I’ll be at my job for a year or two, then get fired, and my enemies will walk all over me.
But Running Bear would know. “If I decide to get rid of him, how do I — ”
Running Bear stood and scowled. “You must! I will not let you put the world in danger!”
Startled, Don stared at him. If the red man hadn’t chased the spirit away by banishing him, he’d be dead right now. After all, The Not had almost gotten Running Bear run over in the street.
“You must know the deity’s name to do this,” Running Bear added. “I will give you my Book of Shadows that translates Keresan into English, which includes the ritual that I sell in the store. You are worshiping a spirit beyond your wildest nightmare, the most malicious Indian deity to ever rise with the sun. Right now, I don’t even want you to speak his name. He’s that terrible. It is in the book I’ll give you.” Running Bear walked over to the counter and grabbed a dark thick book, the ancient leather worn and crumbling.
An almost-deafening screech blasted the silence from outside.
Running Bear stomped over to the door and opened it. He again bound the deity by shouting in his native tongue. The screeching fell silent. Running Bear walked over to Don and handed him the book, along with some supplies.
“You must smudge the evil spirit,” Running Bear said. “This is mugwort, a sacred pipe, desert white cedar and a brazier. This last item is for burning the cedar chips that must be sprinkled over charcoaled mesquite, which you can buy at most stores. Burn the mugwort in the pipe. Do this as soon as you get home.”
Don took the supplies and looked them over. He arranged them aimlessly on the table, then glanced at Running Bear. “But why me? I don’t believe in the Christian God, by the way.”
“Because the white man knows nothing of this Native-American deity; therefore, he can’t banish him. He appears to you so you’ll invoke him because we Keresans bind him, and when he gains your trust, he can destroy mankind from the face of the earth. It is like the neighborhood you live in. Most worship Christ and ask him to protect everyone on your block, but if one devil worshiper moves in and gives Satan entry, the neighborhood starts having many fires, and the crime rate rises.”
“Like I said, I don’t believe in — ”
Running Bear struck the table, making Don jump. “It doesn’t matter what you believe in! This spirit has you right where he wants you. What are you waiting for? Go, now.”
Don trembled. “C-can you help me?”
Running Bear pointed at him. “You welcomed him, you must deal with him.” He walked over to the door and opened it, motioning for Don to go.
Don shook his head and gathered the supplies. “Can I at least pay you for this stuff? I was going to buy some more things too.”
“Why do you act stupid? The end of man is near. Do I have to grab you and throw you out?”
Don sighed and headed for the door. “Thanks, I think.” He passed through the threshold and headed for the car, trying not to drop the supplies.
Running Bear slammed the door behind him.
“Fucker.” Don opened the backseat and threw the supplies in. “Calling me stupid.” He put the donut spare on.
***
Confused, Don sat in his car in front of his house after work. He’d been late getting back from lunch after having his tire fixed at the service station, but he didn’t care about that. Thoughts of Running Bear ran through his head. He half doubted what the Native American had said.
He supposed the real issue was greed.
If I get rid of the deity, I’ll lose Fay, and I can kiss financial success goodbye. Why should I listen to some crazy asshole who calls me stupid? But if he’s right…
Don’s smartphone rang. He retrieved it from his pants pocket. “Hello?”
“Oh, hey, it’s Fay. I’m a poet and I know it.” She giggled.
Don smiled, turned on and cheerful. “Hey, Fay, what do you say? Poem know-em too.”
She let out a hearty laugh. “I don’t mean to bother you — ”
“It’s never a bother to talk to you, luscious.”
Although this may be the last time.
Don watched the sun begin to hide behind the mountains. The orange-cast sky, like a cosmic concert spotlight, was a gorgeous sight to behold.
“I have to go to Albuquerque for a few days,” Fay continued. “My stupid uncle Bob’s sick and in the hospital. Mom’s about to shit bricks. Just letting you know. You can still call my cell.” She sighed. “What are you up to?”
Don sighed also, then thought ruefully fucking up our relationship. “I bought some Native American artifacts to brighten up the house.”
“Cool beans. Well, I’ve gotta go soon, but guess what?”
A couple of black crows landed on the hood of his car.
“What?” he asked.
“Your favorite band’s coming to Albuquerque,” Fay answered.
Don sat up straight. “Testament?”
“Um-hmm, with Death Angel and Anthrax. I saw it in the newspaper.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“I never kid about going to see bands.” She giggled again. “Don’t keep up on concerts around here?”
“No, I’ve been pretty busy with work and, well, you.”
“You’re about to get busier. It’s
this weekend and we’re going. I already scored the tickets. After the show, we get down. I’m gonna rock the party that rocked the party.”
Don’s penis started to snake into an erection. Wild pinpricks of arousal flowed through him as a few more crows landed on his car.
Oh, my God. The Not’s here. And — Rio Rancho, forgive me — I don’t even mind.
“I’m there, sweetheart,” Don said.
“I’ll call you with the deets. Right now, I gotta go. Bye-bye, stud.” Her voice had changed sexily on the last sentence.
Don was fully hard. “All right. Hey, I hope your uncle gets better.”
“Yeah, God help the guy. Kisses.”
“Kisses back. Bye.”
A couple more crows landed on the car.
What am I doing? Seriously? I’m going to throw her away for Running Bear, a guy that called me “stupid”? He’s probably nuts. And so what if it’s true? At least I’ll die happy.
“Excellent. Get inside. I want to talk to you.”
Don turned off the engine and grabbed the supplies. As he made his way toward the house, the murder of crows flapped their wings and flew free from the hood. Don stepped on a couple of scorpions. He reveled in the cool night air after wiping his shoes on the welcome mat.
Then he stopped cold.
Putting everybody in Rio Rancho in harm’s way just so I can party hearty? Could I live with that if it was true?
“I said get your ass in here, lest you die!”
Don picked up his pace, went through the gates and unlocked the doors, trudging into the house and setting the supplies on the couch.
A huge wing bashed him on top of the supplies, face-first. Don could barely fathom what was happening, then realized his nose bled from hitting the edge of the brazier. His hand came away bloody after he wiped it across the wound. Don pushed off the couch, but The Not’s enormous beak pierced his chest and drove him to the wall, knocking over the massive widescreen TV in the process. Don cried out as he looked downward. Blood trickled out of his stomach. The pain was fierce for such a small wound.
