All the Gates of Hell

by Richard Parks

The doorbell rang before Jin had turned around.

  "Get that, will you? It should be Jonathan."

  Jin dutifully went to open the door.

  "You must be Jin," said the newcomer. "I'm Jonathan Mitsumo."

  Jin just stared for a moment. It wasn't just that the man was handsome, though he was. His features were Asian but it was obvious he was of mixed ancestry, as she herself was. He was tall and slim and looked maybe forty, just slightly younger than Jin's mother, and had wavy black hair only slightly peppered with gray. That wasn't what got Jin's immediate attention. It was his eyes. They were very dark, and glittered like small stones. They were also very, very familiar. Jonathan Mitsumo smiled at her, and Jin knew.

  Jin knew that it didn't matter what he looked like now, or what he called himself, or how it had come to be. She only knew that the man calling himself Jonathan Mitsumo and currently her mother's lover was one and the same with the shadow man she had first met in a little girl's version of hell.

  Shiro.

  Jin didn't change into a demon, or run screaming, or lash out, or any of the things she thought she might do. What she actually did was quite different.

  Jin smiled. "Won't you come in?"

  (())

  Chapter 11

  Jonathan smiled at her, but he didn't offer his hand and was careful to keep some distance between them. Jin noted his caution for what it was.

  "Nice to meet you," Jin said as she escorted him inside. This is my friend, Frank Celeste."

  Shiro did offer his hand as Frank stood to meet the newcomer. "Pleasure," Frank said.

  "Likewise."

  Jin glanced from one to another but there seemed to be no more to the greeting than polite interest on both their parts.

  "Mom says dinner is almost ready. Have a seat," Jin said, but Jonathan smiled.

  "Thanks, but I better go apologize to your mother for being late. You know how she is."

  She watched him go through the door, and in the instant the door closed Frank was at her side. "Jin -- " he started to whisper, but Jin stopped him.

  "I know," she said, keeping her own voice low.

  Frank shook his head, looking crestfallen. "I sensed him, but not until he was very close. He's taken corporeal form. I didn't know he could do that, and for one like me, a spirit is easier to find than a man. I have failed you. If he had attacked..."

  "If he'd attacked I'd have gone medieval demon on his sorry ass. My demon form scares him. I've seen it."

  "Since demons are the normal persecutors of beings in hell it stands to reason he'd have a healthy fear of them, from the time before his bargain with Emma-O."

  "Maybe," Jin said, "but I don't think that's the whole story. Do you know what he's up to now?"

  Frank frowned. "Jin, I honestly do not. He's been making a habit of appearing wherever you have work to do as Guan Yin, but I don't know how that applies to this. I mean, developing a relationship with your mother? It doesn't make sense."

  "It makes perfect sense if the goal is to get to me," Jin said, "but I'd bet you anything you'd care to wager that it's not a whim. Apparently he was seeing my mom even before Teacher told me who I was. If it was really the plan of Guan Yin That Was to keep me away from him, then it never had a chance. This 'Jonathan' person -- Shiro -- knew who I was before I did!"

  It was simply beyond belief that Shiro would assume corporeal form in Medias and then in turn find Jin's mother entirely by accident. It wasn't, Jin reminded herself grimly, that small a hell. No, if Jin was his real target -- and both the Guan Yin That Was and Teacher apparently believed so -- then it stood to reason that Jin's mother was simply a means to that end. But what was his purpose?

  As always, too many questions and not nearly enough answers. Jin glanced at the door, but the kitchen was silent. Jin strongly suspected that Jonathan and her mother were making out like schoolkids, but the kitchen timers her mother had set would ring them out of it soon enough.

  "Frank, now that we know were Shiro is, he's going to need watching. Go find Ling and tell her what we've found out. I want you both to come back and watch the house. More specifically, watch him."

  Frank shook his head. "I will not leave you alone with that creature, Jin."

  "Look, if he intended me physical harm by any direct means he's had more than one chance already."

  "He wasn't corporeal before now. He could have a gun," Frank pointed out.

  "Which wouldn't be much good against my demon form, and that's what I'll be wearing if he even hints he's going to get cowboy on me. Look, just do as I say, for now. I'll make up some excuse for you."

  "Deception comes easily to you in your current state," Frank said. "If you don't mind me saying so."

  "Go!" Jin ushered him out the door. He shrugged, then walked into a circle of light that suddenly appeared and then he vanished, as did the light. Jin glanced up and down the street, but there was no one around. She had no sooner sat back down on the couch when her mother appeared at the door.

  "Dinner's ready...say, where's Frank?"

  "He got a call on his cell phone. Urgent family business, I'm afraid. He sends his regrets."

  "I didn't hear a phone ring," said Jonathan from behind Jin's mother.

  "His cell's set to vibrate," Jin said without missing a beat. "Don't you hate it when someone else's cell phone is always going off?"

  "I know I do," Margaret said, and then she sighed. "Are you sure this wasn't some lame attempt to get out of the parental grilling I've been so looking forward to?"

  "No," Jin said, "That part was just a bonus."

  Margaret laughed. "All right, but I will insist on a raincheck. Shall we?"

  They went into the old-fashioned dining room where Margaret, apparently with Jonathan's help, had laid out the feast, and it was no less than that. Roasted turkey, ham, dressing, three kinds of vegetables. For a moment all Jin could do was stare.

  "Wow, Mom, you'd think it was Thanksgiving or something."

  Margaret just shrugged. "In a way it is. How often are my two favorite people in the world under the same roof?"

  Jin smiled, as did Jonathan, who winked at her. Jin kept smiling, but it was more like grinding her teeth than an actual smile. "Mom tells me you're a psychologist?" Jin asked. "Where do you work?"

  "I'm in private practice in Sumter," he said, naming a smallish town about twenty miles north of Medias. "I'm listed. Come by and see me if you'd like."

  Jin accepted a dish from Jonathan, but their hands never touched. "Professionally?"

  He smiled. "That would probably be a conflict of interest. And unnecessary. I'm sure you're no more nutty than your mom."

  "No, though I had my hopes," Margaret said. "Jin, pass the carrots if you're through staring at them in disgust."

  "Gladly," said Jin, who had never been able to develop a taste for carrots, despite her mother's best efforts. "I've been thinking about what you said earlier."

  Margaret raised an eyebrow. "About carrots?"

  "About moving back home. At least for a while." Jin was speaking to her mother, but it was the man calling himself Jonathan who had all her attention. She looked for any sort of reaction from him: fear, pleasure, worry, surprise, but he was unreadable.

  Her mother was grinning like a possum. "Really? You're serious?"

  Jin nodded. "It's silly to live apart when we live this close together. There are better things I could spend the rent money on, you know?"

  "I know," Margaret said. "Now. What are you up to?"

  Jin blinked. "Up to? Nothing."

  "Honestly Jin, I'd love it past your ability to understand if you were to move home, but I never expected you to do it. Are you having trouble at work? Do you really need the money?"

  Jin just sighed. "The answer is no and again, no. I'm fine. My moving out served its purpose. As you said, you're gone most of the time. We're both adults. So long as you're good with that, I don't see a problem."

  Margaret raised an eyebrow, but she didn't ar
gue the point further, for which Jin was very grateful. After all, she couldn't tell her mom the real reason, could she? What would she say anyway? That her mother's boyfriend was some sort of shape-changing shadow creature escaped from his own hell and here in hers to... what, exactly?

  That part was puzzling Jin greatly. One thing she did know beyond doubt -- there was no way she was leaving her mother alone with Shiro, Jonathan, or whatever he was calling himself, if she could help it. Jin didn't want to move home, but at that moment she didn't see a good alternative. Nor did she quite know what to make of the warm smile that had finally blossomed on Jonathan's face. It looked entirely too much like the one her own mother was wearing now.

  "It's for the best," Jonathan said brightly. "Perhaps it's not my place to say, but you know how your mother worries about you."

  "And vice versa," Jin said grimly, idly wondering if Shiro was a poker player. He'd be a natural. "I won't let anything happen to my mother if there's anything I can do to prevent it."

  Margaret actually looked touched. "How sweet. But I'm a grownup. Just as you are, Lotus Blossom."

  Jonathan frowned. "'Lotus Blossom.'?"

  "It's been my nickname since I was seven," Jin said. "Don't ask me why."

  Her mother shrugged. "Because you are. My Lotus Blossom, that is."

  "She's gone zen again," Jonathan said, which was something of a shock to Jin, who was thinking the exact same thing. Not that her mother really understood zen or was even a serious student of it, but that she tended to go through periods when she expressed herself in zen terms. It was just part of the glorious spiritual mish-mosh that was Kathleen Margaret Hannigan's world. Jin and Jonathan exchanged glances and it was as if, for a moment, they were old friends sharing a secret. Jin looked away, confused, almost blushing. Jonathan just kept smiling.

  "Your room's just the way you left it, you know," Margaret said, apparently taking no notice. "Like a shrine to my Lotus Blossom. You can move right back in."

  Jin shook her head. "That's exactly what I can't do; shrines aren't for the living. I'll need to rearrange things a bit."

  "Suit yourself," her mother said. "Now eat. Your tandoori chicken is getting cold."

  Jonathan looked thoughtful. "You say Jin's room is exactly the way she left it?"

  Margaret looked stern. "You will not analyze me on this, Jonathan Mitsumo. Whatever else I may be or how good or poor a job I've done, I'm still a mother. I won't apologize for acting like one."

  He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Perish the thought. It's just that Jin's room might give me some insight into Jin as a person... or at least the girl she used to be. I need to get to know you both if I'm going to be involved in your lives."

  Margaret's expression brightened. "Oh, you want to analyze Jin," she said. "That's all right, then."

  "Mother!"

  Jonathan's smile was totally disarming. "Do you really mind, Jin? I promise not to form any crackpot theories."

  Jin was not disarmed in the least. "I'd rather you didn't," she said, tearing off a piece of chicken like a lioness ripping into her kill.

  "I suppose it rather was too personal of me," Jonathan said. "I apologize."

  "Nothing to apologize for," Jin said. "In fact, I think I will show you my room after all." She swallowed what she was eating and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "It's upstairs, second door on the right. I go first, though. Thanks for dinner, Mom."

  "You didn't eat much," Margaret said.

  "Not much for a teamster, you mean. I'm stuffed." Jin got up from the table. "I'll go on ahead," she said to Jonathan. "Or do you need help with the dishes?"

  "Thanks for the offer, but I can manage. I wouldn't want to stand in the way of boyfriend/daughter bonding. Up to a point, that is," she said pointedly.

  "I'll be up in a minute, and I promise to keep my hands to myself," Jonathan said, directing the last bit to Margaret.

  "Good, if you want to continue to have hands," Margaret said. "A word to the wise -- my Lotus Blossom is fierce when cornered."

  Mother, Jin thought grimly, You don't know the half of it.

  Jin left the dining room, crossed the living room into the foyer and took the stairs two at a time up to her old room. Once inside the door Jin saw that, like her mother's usual view of the truth, her remarks about keeping Jin's room as a shrine were sort of true but only up to a point. Oh, the poster of some long-forgotten schoolgirl crush was still on the wall, and the ruffled bedspread and comforter hadn't changed, but Jin's algebra book had been placed in the bookcase instead of under the bed where she'd kicked it after graduation, and the various minor ribbons and trophies she'd won in debate and talent competitions had been hauled out of their box in the closet and proudly displayed. The room wasn't exactly untouched but it was, in essence, a shrine to Jin.

  Guan Yin has so many, but here's one to me alone.

  Something glittery on her old dresser caught her eye, and Jin took a closer look. It was a candlestick in the shape of a green Chinese dragon, about eight inches high. Jin frowned. She did not remember this item at all. Then the candlestick winked at her, and her mouth fell open in surprise. It was several long moments before Jin got over her shock enough to realize what was going on.

  "Ling?" she whispered, and the candlestick nodded at her.

  HERE, MIST... I MEAN JIN. CELESTIAL YOUTH SAID YOU WERE LOOKING FOR ME.

  "For both of you, really. Where is he?"

  CLOSE. HE ISN'T SHOWING HIMSELF.

  "Good. Listen, Ling... Jonathan, I mean Shiro, is coming. Don't do anything unless I tell you."

  Ling didn't have a chance to reply, because there was a knock on the door and, after a pause, Jonathan let himself in. "Did I hear voices?" he asked.

  Jin reddened slightly, but didn't look away from him. "Talking to myself. Or the past. Make of that what you will."

  He just shrugged. "What is there to make of it, other than what it is? I've been known to do it myself. So. I assume you changed your mind for the purpose of getting me alone. What do you want to say to me, Jin?"

  Jin blinked. Jonathan or Shiro or whoever he was had called that one right. The problem is, presented with the reality of being alone with the creature who'd been dogging her steps since Teacher's revelation, Jin wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to say to him. She started with one simple truth, though it might not have been the first one on her mind.

  "My mother and I haven't always gotten along, no surprise, but I won't let anyone hurt her. I don't know what your game is..."

  Jonathan was busy looking around the room as if he hadn't listened to a word she'd said. "What did she tell you about me?"

  "Mom? Not a lot. She said -- "

  "Not her, Jin. You know who I mean."

  Jin did know. "So. We're not even going to pretend, are we?"

  He just shrugged. "Why should we? You know I am not simply Jonathan Mitsumo, and I know that you know this. No need to take it any further than that if we don't want to sound like an old Abbott and Costello routine." He smiled at her. "Or do you? I'm game."

  "You're Shiro," Jin said grimly.

  He nodded. "Also true and I do not deny it. But who is Shiro? What does that name mean to you?"

  She frowned. "You're the shadow creature who helped trap that little girl in hell, the one who helped keep Michiko in hers. Doubtless there are others I haven't discovered yet. Let's not play games then -- I intend to stop you."

  "Stop me from what?"

  Jin couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not. So far as his expression was readable, he seemed puzzled. Jin put her hands on her hips. "From interfering, for a start. From making some unfortunate soul spend one moment longer in hell than they need to!"

  He shook his head sadly. "Why are you so angry at me, Jin? I really would like to know."

  Jin blinked owlishly. "Why...? I just told you!"

  "You told me I was interfering. I admit I've been going to the places I know you must go. I can follow the golden threads as we
ll as you can. But I was not interfering."

  Jin had no idea what 'golden threads' he was referring to, and at that moment could not possibly have cared less. "What would you call it then?"

  "Being near you. That's all I wanted. That's all I've ever wanted."

  Jin felt her fact flush in anger and embarrassment, and there wasn't a thing she could do about either. She was barely able to keep her voice below shouting. "My work is not your concern. Neither, for that matter, am I."

  "I disagree, but let that be for now. You incarnated to hide from me, but I know there's more to it than that. But I've had some time to think about it, and I'm thinking that, perhaps, I know the real reason. Or at least more of a clue than you have, I'll wager."

  Jin kept her temper, but it was hard. "Speaking of that, I want to know how you found me, how you knew who I was."

  Shiro grinned. "That was easy -- Emma-O told me. Oh, right. I believe you know him as 'Teacher.'"

  Jin started to deny it, but she couldn't. For all she knew it was true. Shiro went on. "I'll be glad to answer any question you put to me, but I do think you should choose them better. And I would like an answer to mine: who am I?"

  Jin's hands balled into fists. She didn't want to answer him, but not answering seemed worse. Driven to the wall, she fell back on the truth. "You call yourself Jonathan Mitsumo, but you're Shiro...but aside from that, I don't know."

  Shiro just nodded. "You really don't know, do you? I thought as much. She sent you in blind, didn't she? Yes, that fits. Unfortunately for both of us."

  Jin didn't have to ask who "she" was. He meant the Guan Yin That Was. And he was absolutely right. For a moment Jin considered assuming her demon form, just to escape the feeling of being at such a complete disadvantage, but it was as if Shiro sensed her thought. "Go ahead if you want. Hardly anyone can stand before you in your Prince of Demons form. It won't make any difference. I will, as they say, be back. I will go where you go, and I will do whatever it takes to be near you."

  "Dammit all, who are you? I mean really. Forget the names which, so far as I can tell, mean less than shit. Who are you really? What do you want?" she asked finally.