Twice as Dark: Two Novels of Horror

by Glen Krisch

  "And Jimmy?" Jacob asked, his voice faltering.

  "He's not in the army, is he? Me and Jacob know he's not, but no one listens to us."

  "Do you know what happened to my brother? Where he is? Anything, please," Jacob pleaded.

  "I wish I could close my eyes and see the answers written there. It simply doesn't work that way, child."

  "Greta?" Jacob wiped away a single streaking tear.

  "No, he's not in the army. I wish it were true." Greta frowned at her folded hands as if they had done her wrong. "You see, my visions, if that's what the townsfolk like to call them, well, they aren't my visions of the future at all. There's a peculiar trait in my family, going back, oh, I can't count the generations… but I do remember them. Every generation before me, I remember their memories. The memories of those who came before get passed on at the time of death like an inheritance."

  "So your visions are of the past?" Ellie asked, confused.

  "My family's memories go back a long time. From the time my ancestors were peasants in Europe, to even earlier generations, when they lived in barbaric tribes mixing with Orientals, Africans. The newest memories are the strongest, the most fully formed, of course. They get weaker the closer you get to the base of my family tree."

  "But you've predicted the future. Like how Odette Fischer would win the pie contest last year with her secret recipe, her raisin custard. Or when you warned of Claude Cloutier having his heart attack while tilling his field," Jacob said.

  "Sure, I know things about the future, but you have to understand, they aren't my visions. They're my mother's. She could see the future. She was the only person in all of my family's generations who not only saw the past and past lives, but the future and the coming generations. Upon her death, I inherited my mother's visions of the future."

  Cooper had heard enough. "I'm sorry, but maybe I should step outside," Cooper said while standing. "I don't feel like I'm much help here."

  "Cooper, you're a part of this. You might want to stick around."

  "A part of this? So you're saying that I'm somehow connected to Jimmy Fowler's disappearance?"

  Jacob looked accusingly at Cooper, as if the question had solidified his own conclusions.

  "No, but you will be instrumental in what is to come."

  "I'm sorry, but I don't believe a word you're saying. Kids, I think we should go now. This is a big waste of time."

  "Greta, please go on," Ellie said quietly, as if she didn't want to offend Cooper for speaking up at all.

  Greta closed her eyes in concentration. "There are places where even God won't go. The Blankenships learned this," she said, opening her eyes. She paused, letting out a sigh, looking at Cooper. "But it was too late for them to do anything about it. They were drawn in, consumed in darkness. When they were gone, God turned His back on Coal Hollow. From that day on, no man of God would step foot inside the town limits."

  "Jimmy, my brother, do you know where he is, Greta?"

  "I can't see that. Mom didn't know, didn't foresee this. But she did know he's somewhere close."

  "Is he… is he…?"

  "He's, more than anything, wanting to escape the hell he's a subject to."

  There was a quick, familiar knock on the door, then Arlen Polk entered, carrying a wooden crate laden with groceries. He seemed surprised to see others sitting with Greta.

  "Momma, I got your cooking things." He kept his eyes lowered. He could've just climbed from a coal bin. Black dust coated his skin. His greasy hair stuck out in weird spikes.

  "Thank you, Arlen." Her son stood staring at Cooper. "You remember Mr. Cooper, right Arlen?"

  "Yeah, Mom, I told you 'bout him. We found the, uh… we… went searching together that one night." He turned to Cooper. "I'd shake hands, but after the…" he said, then stopped as he looked at Ellie, "The uh… service, I went to my gopher hole. Then, I 'membered Mamma's cooking stuff, so I went to town."

  "Such a good boy, always thinking of my well being," Greta said to Cooper, smiling. She turned back to Arlen. "Honey, we're about done here. Why don't you clean up, and by the time you get back, I'll have something on the stove for you."

  "Sure, Momma." He went to his mother and kissed her cheek. She feigned a giggle at his quill-like beard, and then patted him on the head and shooed him away. Arlen moped as he went out the door and down the stairs.

  "I'm sorry, but that's all I have to share. I wish I could be more precise. If I knew anything else, I would say so. There's an unpleasant undercurrent in this town. It will pull at you unexpectedly and drag you under its surface if you don't watch out. Just please be careful."

  The children took this as their cue and headed for the door.

  "Thanks, Greta." Ellie seemed disappointed in what Greta had told her, but still somewhat relieved.

  "Cooper? Can I have a private word?"

  Jacob waved goodbye to Greta and then closed the door, leaving them alone.

  "I think you should be ashamed for what you're doing to those kids," Cooper said, doing his best to keep his voice from traveling too far.

  "You're being unfair," she said whimsically. She seemed comfortable with someone questioning her abilities.

  "You give a sense of hope when there isn't any."

  "Because there is hope. I know it's hard to see, but the life of this town will soon shift. Daylight will swallow shadows. Shadows most people don't even see, or if they do, won't acknowledge for what they are. You, Mr. Cooper, are at the center of this change."

  "You speak in riddles. People speak in riddles when they are trying to hide something."

  "I speak the truth. My mother's truth."

  "Why should I care what happens here?" He didn't believe his own words, because in some small way he did feel a connection with this town and the people he'd met. The kids waiting outside, Jane Fowler, Hank Calder, Magee, everyone… even the Blankenships--they were all good people.

  "Because you already do. Otherwise, you wouldn't have bought that house. You wouldn't be protecting those kids when you think they might be in danger of whatever fate stole Jimmy Fowler from his family. Besides, most strangers wouldn't have waited a day to take leave after George's death. You're here, Mr. Cooper. You're invested."

  "I don't want to hear any more of your runaround. You're just a lonely old lady luring people to your door with your jumbled talk. Right now, I'm going to walk those kids home. As soon as I see Jacob's mom, I'm going to let her know about everything, about how you are nothing but a snake charmer."

  "What if I told you I know your secret?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  As if Cooper hadn't voiced his dissent, Greta continued: "You discovered your father's mother was a former slave, her son, your father, was born from relations with her master, and you didn't know about this until recently."

  "How the hell--"

  "This knowledge has left you confused about who you are and your role in society."

  "I'm not going to listen to another--"

  "Cooper, it's okay." Greta raised her hand to interrupt him. "I won't tell anyone. I just wanted to prove to you…"

  Cooper didn't know what to say, and couldn't meet Greta's gaze. He turned quickly, and was out the door a moment later. He nearly bowled over the kids at the top of the stairs.

  "Cooper?" Ellie asked. "Everything all right?"

  The color left his face. Light-headedness washed over him. He hurried down the stairs, careful not to take in the imposing height, for then he would surely faint.

  He reached the wooded ground, the children close on his heels. They passed Arlen as he returned from wherever he had cleaned up. His forehead and neck were still coal-black, but the skin above his scraggly beard was white, as were his hands. They were so white they appeared to have never touched sunlight.

  "Bye bye," Arlen said. He seemed happy to have his mother to himself.

  21.

  They were quiet on the way home, each lost in their own thoughts.
Most certain of the quickest route, Jacob had taken the lead. Ellie stayed by Cooper's side.

  Cooper had accompanied the kids to Greta's house for one and only one reason. He feared for their safety. He never believed the story about Jimmy Fowler running off to the army, or that an animal had gored Ellie's brother to death. The pieces of the puzzle didn't fit that way. No, something terrible had happened, but he didn't know exactly what. He couldn't let the kids go off on their own with what his instincts were telling him.

  He never expected to hear such things. Greta had caught him off guard, and before he could react, he felt exposed, verbally lashed. But that's not what happened. Not really. Upon reflection, the sting of her words softened. When the sting was entirely gone, he realized she hadn't attacked him at all. Greta had been right about everything she had said about his past. The sting was from the vulnerability he felt with a stranger knowing his secret.

  Judging the children's reaction, they hadn't overheard the conversation. That was a relief. He didn't want to admit who he was, what he was. The only trouble he'd ever suffered over his appearance was when he had sprouted tall at thirteen, without the accompanying weight gain. For two years he had been scrawny and sickly looking. He eventually leveled off after the family doctor instructed his mom to make sure he got extra milk and butter in his diet. Those two years had been bad enough; he couldn't imagine the reactions and ridicule if the secret of his lineage became public knowledge.

  His secret. How could Greta have known? No one knew but his own parents. His grandmother had lived at their town home until cancer sent her to her grave. Despite increasing doses of laudanum, pain taxed her frail body every minute of those three months. Little could be done for her. Cooper's mother lovingly attended to her needs during the day when he and his father were at work. At night, his father would hold vigil over her as she rapidly deteriorated, oftentimes reading the bible to her in his gruff voice. From his bedroom door, Cooper would listen for when his father took to his own bed, usually after midnight, and then he would go to Velma Fortune's bedside. He would hold her hand as they talked quietly.

  "Arlen's a bastard," Jacob said matter-of-factly as they walked. He pulled back next to Cooper and Ellie. The boy didn't seem as angry after talking to Greta.

  "Jacob, don't talk like that," Ellie said.

  "But he is. I heard it from Jimmy. A shyster named Rubell Polk, he came to town selling potions and remedies from a beat up suitcase. He swept old Greta off her feet, and then snuck off not long after. She's never hidden it, neither."

  Cooper nodded, choosing to ignore his gossip bait. "That was a brave thing for an unmarried woman to do."

  "People think Arlen's a nitwit because he's a bastard."

  "Jacob, please."

  "I'm not making it up, Ellie. You've heard it yourself."

  "Doesn't mean you gotta go off talking like that."

  "Just making conversation."

  They continued on in silence. After awhile Jacob's eyes darkened. Cooper could only guess where the boy's thoughts lingered. He had been through a lot lately.

  They covered the next half-mile cutting across a sorghum cane field. The sun had dried the grass, all except for the twining roots. Cooper drifted back to his own thoughts. Velma Fortune's dying words haunted him:

  Find yourself, child. Find out who you ought to be.

  Since meeting his grandmother in his family's parlor, Cooper had been confused and conflicted. Before meeting Velma, he'd thought he knew his place in the world, but that had all changed. She'd sensed his confusion, though he'd never spoken of it. Then she used her final words in an attempt to comfort him. He couldn't imagine a more selfless gift.

  In her short time at their home, they had grown close. Velma always had a story to tell or a small nugget of wisdom to pass on. His only wish would have been to meet her sooner.

  After a solemn closed casket wake, they buried Velma in the family cemetery. By the end of that day, eager to be on his way, Cooper traded his funeral garb for traveling clothes. His preparations accelerated when Velma's condition took a turn for the worse. Everyone had known the end was near, but no one had spoken about it. She smiled weakly, revealing more than words ever could. The reunion of her family had given her closure.

  The library board had been shocked when he announced his intentions of leaving. Without his asking, they had promised to hold a position for him, if he were ever inclined to return. Velma Fortune's grave was still fresh when he took to the road.

  Jacob and Ellie seemed in more of a hurry than Cooper, so the way home went quickly. They left the sorghum field and returned to Teetering Road for the last stretch home. As they approached the Fowler's driveway, he considered what he had said to Greta, how he would tell Jane Fowler how Greta had plied the kids' innocence and insecurity with her lies. But he decided to hold his tongue. Telling Jane would undoubtedly send her over to Greta's house, and in the end, potentially expose his past. He had another reason for not telling Jane: maybe Greta hadn't fabricated a single thread to her story. With how quickly she had convinced Cooper of her abilities--and she had turned his disbelief around as easily as spinning a top--he couldn't deny the possibility. Maybe Jimmy was close by.

  "Take care, Coop," Ellie said as they reached the driveway.

  He waved to her and exchanged a nod of amiable acceptance with Jacob. When the front door closed behind them, he turned to walk to his new home. Differing thoughts fought for his complete attention:

  His grandmother's dying words. The image of the Blankenships spiraling away, consumed in darkness. Wondering about his own motives for buying their abandoned home, and if they were even his motives to begin with. Most of all, he wondered about the Greta's insistence that he would help solve the mystery of Jimmy's disappearance.

  Part III

  1.

  Jacob's mother didn't allow him to say a word before she started in on him. Her venom left him temporarily speechless.

  "You've got a lot of explaining to do Jacob Mitchell Fowler!" Still dressed in her funeral clothes from hours earlier, she bolted from her kitchen chair, her eyes puffy and red. She was angry. Angrier than he had ever seen.

  He stammered, searching for his voice. Ellie cringed behind him. He hadn't noticed Louise Bradshaw right away, but now he saw her sitting at the kitchen table and rubbing her expanding belly. As his mom tore into him, Louise remained seated and quiet.

  "Where were you two? Do you have any sense at all, running off like that? Did you ever think how scared I'd be?"

  "But, Mom--"

  Her slap silenced him.

  His hand went to his stinging cheek. His mom's expression immediately drained. She'd never struck him before. Never once in all the times he had angered her.

  "Oh, Jacob, I'm so sorry. I… I thought you were gone, too, like Jimmy. I couldn't stand the thought of not having my sons."

  He still rubbed his cheek, smarting more from bewilderment than pain. His mom pulled him into a hug, and he could feel her trembling against him. She felt so fragile. While she had always seemed made of granite, her bones were now balsa wood.

  "Mom, I'm sorry. We won't run off again. I wasn't thinking."

  Ellie stepped forward to face his mom. "We went to Greta's."

  "You did what?"

  "We went to her house," Jacob said, then felt the need to explain. "We went to see if Greta knew anything about our brothers."

  "She said Jimmy's close, Miss Fowler. Maybe even in town somewhere. He's somewhere close, and he wants to come home."

  Louise flinched at hearing Jimmy's name. She still didn't speak, but her attention seemed more acutely focused. Her hair typically fell across her shoulders in unruly waves; now it was pulled back behind her ears. It made her brown eyes more prominent and stark.

  "Of course. I should have known." His mom brushed one of Ellie's blonde braids behind her shoulder. Her emotions switched yet again, this time shifting from anger to understanding. Jacob was confused. "Are you two hung
ry? I can whip something up. Supper won't be for a couple hours still, but I don't mind."

  "Mom, it's true. What Greta said. Jimmy's still here. Somewhere. We need to find him."

  "That's not possible."

  Jacob tried to decipher the meaning of his mom's words. He could only come to one conclusion. Seeing Louise sitting weepy-eyed at their kitchen table, seeing how sad, how utterly exhausted his mom was, it could only mean one thing: someone had discovered his brother's body.

  "Sheriff Bergman was over not more than an hour ago with the news. Which reminds me, I'm going to have to run to town to let him know you two are back and okay."

  Ellie caught his attention as she shifted from one foot to the other. Sympathy gleamed in her deep blue eyes. He could easily read her thoughts; she knew why Bergman had come, she'd been through this before. Jacob listened to his mom, but wanted to put a break on the words coming from her mouth. As long as he didn't hear the words, then they couldn't be true. His brother wasn't dead. Couldn't possibly be.

  "The sheriff just heard back from Peoria. The recruiting office has a record of Jimmy signing up two days ago. Do you know what this means, Jacob? Your brother is safe. He's safe as long as he's not sent somewhere to war, but at least we know he's alive. I'm going to take a strap to that boy, just as soon as I get a chance, I'm going to whip that boy raw. Running off like that, running off scared and spineless. Just like his father."

  His mom hugged him again, and her strength had returned. Her balsa wood bones were instantly granite. She squeezed so hard it felt like she would break his ribs. He didn't think she would ever let go, but when she did, he turned and noticed fresh tears on Louise's face. Looking at Ellie, he was certain she mirrored his expression: shock, dismay, disbelief.

  "I'm glad to see you both home safe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm angry with you or that what you did was wrong. You're both grounded from leaving the yard until I decide otherwise. Until you prove you've learned some sense.

  "So can I get you something to eat, or can you wait until supper?"