Fear Not the Dark

by Susan Murray

  But then a group of five Darkers had come to the Gonzalez home one evening. The ensuing discussion about Manuel and Rosita’s decision to stop participating in The Dark’s fan club had grown very heated. Angry words had been spoken, nasty threats had been made and Hector’s parents had been forced to throw their uninvited visitors out of the house. Called the police when they’d come back later that night.

  And that was when the trouble had really begun. Harassing phone calls, late night visits, the occasional broken window and flat tire and even an unexplained driveway fire. Hector and his siblings had grown used to living in a house where the blinds were drawn morning, noon and night. An overwhelming feeling of paranoia had settled over the Gonzalez family which had escalated and finally culminated in their late-night flight from Miami with such disastrous results.

  Hector’s story was disturbing to say the least. And throughout the telling of it Alison had been working the laptop, chewing her lower lip and scowling at the screen.

  “Check this out, Marley.” Shielding the monitor from Hector’s view Alison murmured, “Look at the date. Miami on Labor Day weekend just like he said. There’s a newswire story about it.”

  Over Labor Day weekend a tragic accident befell a group of adults participating in Miami’s first-ever Dark Convention. Two people were burned to death in an unexplained fire that occurred at the convention center where the event was being held. The fire was quickly contained with little damage and no other injuries were reported. The identity of the two victims is being withheld pending identification of the remains. The cause of the fire has not yet been determined.

  The article was short but muscular enough to convey the impression of a strange fire sufficiently powerful to burn two human beings to death without inflicting a bit of damage on their surroundings.

  It sounded like just the bizarre sort of something that could have scared Manuelo and Rosita into locking the closet door on everything Dark, just as Hector had described. Alison did another quick online search and pulled up a second article originally published by the St. Paul Pioneer Press newspaper.

  Car Accident Kills Two. Manuelo and Rosita Gonzalez, husband and wife, tourists from Florida, were killed in a motor vehicle accident on 35W north at 394 early Sunday morning when their car spun out of control and collided with a freeway median. The Gonzalezes are survived by their three children, Hector, Evalina and Roberto, ages nine, seven and seven.

  Alison was bemused. “Hhmmmm.”

  “I’ll say,” Marley nodded. Neither one of them wanted to further upset little Hector Gonzalez, so they dropped the subject and said nothing more about the articles until after Hector and the other children on Rebecca’s crew had left The Kid Factory for a lunch stop at Jimmy John’s before their shift began at Sherman’s Rare Bookstore.

  “I wonder what happened to that lady who jumped last night?” Marley couldn’t help voicing her concern once the children were gone and she was alone with Alison. “When I saw her she didn’t seem suicidal at all. I wonder if The Dark’s therapy messed with her head.”

  “What therapy?”

  Alison listened quietly as Marley described The Dark’s theory that one could face one’s fear directly and thus conquer it. “Well, if what you’re telling me is true I bet there have been other ‘incidents’ like this one over the years. I’ll have Rutgers check into The Dark’s tour schedule and see if there are any other unexplained deaths that coincide with the dates and places.” Rutgers joined them before Alison finished speaking

  On first impression Rutgers was just another ordinary tall, dark and handsome fellow with long black hair and an abnormally pale complexion who rarely smiled and never aged. It was only after one had a chance to study Rutgers that a person noticed how uncannily he was able to anticipate Alison’s needs in advance. He always appeared before he was called for, so much so that this had become their private joke.

  “You rang?” Rutgers smiled down at Alison.

  “Are you busy right now? I need your help getting some information, please.”

  “At your service, Miss.” Rutgers also insisted on calling Alison Miss, despite having worked for her parents from back even before her birth. The long hair shadowing his face made Rutgers’ expression unreadable as he listened to Alison’s instructions, and as usual Marley had absolutely no idea what he was thinking.

  After Rutgers left, Marley promised to follow up with Alison later and then took her leave as well. The events of the day so far had been very interesting and on her drive home Marley realized that in the excitement of the burglary and then learning about Gillian Folsom’s demise, she’d completely forgotten to tell Alison anything at all about Galea and the child’s strange visit the previous night.

  But despite not having consulted Alison regarding the little girl (she would mention it to Alison later), Marley had obtained some excellent insights and background bits for the article she’d promised to write about The Dark, about his form of therapy and the results of such upon his followers. So despite the complications of the past day, Marley was on track to write the article she’d promised Stella.

  Then again, Marley had more than a few doubts as to whether Stella would want to see a story about women jumping from the rooftops and small children who’d been traumatized by their parents’ violent deaths. In fact, most of the background material that Marley had gathered about The Dark so far would likely be inappropriate for the article. Not at all the kind of coverage of The Dark and his seminar that Stella would want included in Mississippi Magazine.

  Stella wanted a bread-and-butter piece. A simple “Here’s what you get isn’t it neat?” coverage of The Dark and his mission to cure humankind of its fears. But Hector and Gillian’s stories were so ominous that an editor might decide not to publish the article, and hence there would be no check in the mail for writing services rendered. Going forward Marley would just have to focus on finding the lighter side of The Dark. Assuming there was one.

  CHAPTER 17

  October 30th – 12:30 p.m.

  Parked in an alley surrounded by red brick buildings on the cobblestoned streets of Minneapolis’ older warehouse district, Janus Wozniak took a quick look around himself and slid a little farther down in the front seat of his van. From his side mirror he had a clear view of the “Salty Dog” food truck driving slowly by.

  The truck was bright orange painted with a graphic of a grinning cartoon dog holding a hot-dog in one paw while dancing a jig. It continued on down the street without incident and turned left. Janus had parked discreetly around the corner from the entrance to the Kid Factory, mostly out of sight, yet he still maintained a clear view of Marley’s Jeep and the front door.

  As requested by Max Sherman, Janus was on the job. Having followed Marley to the Kid Factory, he was waiting outside for Marley to return. Janus settled back in his van and poured coffee from a thermos while ostensibly studying a blueprint. Anyone who happened to notice him would assume he was just another construction worker, planning for the day ahead. The faded blue and red plaid shirt and orange safety helmet Janus had chosen to wear for the day supported this conclusion.

  Reaching into the pocket of his shirt, Janus removed a small metal box. Carefully opening the box, he retrieved the contents: a tiny square of paper on which was glued an even smaller blue dot about twice the size of the head of a pin. The dot was a tracking microchip, designed for the use of security teams in locating objects and people. Quite often such dots were affixed to valuable art, as they broadcast a unique signal, an identifier that allowed police to monitor and seize such objects if they were ever stolen. Sometimes insurance companies even required the use of tracking chips on items they insured.

  In this case, Janus planned to stick the dot somewhere on Marley’s person, preferably wi
thout alarming her or giving cause for speculation on her part. Max had said “keep an eye on her”, and that was exactly what Janus planned to do. As he readied the dot for transfer, Janus saw Marley exit the Kid Factory and head toward her Jeep.

  Janus left his van and headed diagonally across the street to intercept Marley as she was reaching for her keys. He still clutched the blueprint, and it concealed the microchip on the tip of his finger.

  “Say, Miss? I wonder if I might trouble you for a moment?” Janus affected a Southern accent, as he had found that woman generally responded well to this.

  “Yes?” Marley turned and gave him a quizzical look, a smile curling her lips.

  “I’m looking for Washington and Hennepin, could you help me out?” Janus flashed Marley a friendly grin as he handed her the blueprints, on which the address he was allegedly searching for was printed prominently. At the same time, and as she bent over to study the address on the blueprint, Janus tapped the microchip lightly into the long dark hair falling over Marley’s shoulder, where it stuck, all but unnoticeable and instantly covered by other strands of hair. The tracking chip was waterproof and would wear off by itself in a few weeks.

  “You want to go one block east then take a left and you should be right there.” If Marley wondered why the tall, good-looking fellow was unable to read the simple map printed right there on his blueprint, she didn’t mention it. Her big grey eyes crinkled conspiratorially. “And if you’re looking for a good place to eat lunch, try the Mill City Café. You’ll be working across the street from there and the food is great.”

  “Thanks miss!” Janus tipped his safety helmet and watched as Marley got into her Jeep and drove away. Moments later, from the cab of his van, Janus booted up the internet program which allowed him to track Marley’s movements from a distance.

  CHAPTER 18

  October 30th – 1:00 p.m.

  When Marley got back to Uncle Max’s house much later that afternoon it was quiet and sunlit and peaceful. Unlocking the front door she walked confidently into the den, fully and reasonably expecting to find the wicker cat bed and her Uncle’s feline friend from the night before. Marley had stopped on her way home to pick up water and food dishes along with a variety of cat food for her new roommate.

  But neither cat nor bed were there.

  Marley stared wordlessly at the spot where the cat and bed had been. Questioning her sanity much? She could understand the cat itself coming and going as it pleased but who had removed its bed and why. It wasn’t Becky’s week to clean so someone else besides Becky obviously had keys to Uncle Max’s place. But why would anyone show up secretly to move a cat bed around the house? Could it all just be part of some kind of deliberate plot to drive her crazy?

  Things had been so weird lately that, paranoid or not, Marley seriously considered this last idea. Given some of the goings-on at Sherman’s Rare Bookstore and at Uncle Max’s house the night before, the notion that someone may be pranking her had a certain appeal. Maybe Werther had graduated to an entirely new level of harassment.

  Marley dropped the now unnecessary cat food and treats in a heap where the cat bed had been and gave up trying to figure out what had become of Uncle Max’s cat. In big, bold black magic marker letters she wrote the words:

  Nanny Cam?

  Security Cam install?!

  Change locks!!!! on a large purple post-it note which she stuck onto the front of the refrigerator for reminders. Catching sight of the kitchen clock Marley realized she’d better start getting ready for the next event on the Dark Seminar itinerary, the Dark Forum. There was more than enough time for a relaxing bath and change of clothing before she had to leave for the Target Center in downtown Minneapolis.

  The upstairs bathroom boasted one of those deep claw-footed tubs with an angle that made for perfect head support. Marley filled the tub to the brim with water as hot as she could possibly stand then got in, soaking herself neck deep and relaxing into the heat with a deep sigh.

  Three scented candles burned on the tiled window ledge next to the tub, emitting a scent that wafted soothing through the air and mingled with the fresh smell of rosewater from the bath. Closing her eyes completely Marley floated in the hot water, focusing on mental and physical relaxation. Trying to shed the stress and grief of the past week and trying to ready herself for the long evening ahead.

  It still didn’t seem possible that her Uncle Max could be gone forever. Being in his empty house should have helped to convince Marley that Max’s passing was truly final but he didn’t feel gone in her heart and each time she turned a corner she still expected to see him standing there. A wave of tears rose unbidden in her eyes as Marley mourned her Uncle Max. He’d always been there for her when she’d needed him over the years. What was she going to do now that he was gone?

  As a private security guard Max Sherman had traveled too frequently to adopt Marley officially when she was young but he’d signed the papers to sponsor her. Besides faithfully sending pocket money and gifts from abroad, whenever he had time he’d done his best to treat Marley and Alison like his own daughters, teaching them valuable life skills such as the right way to swing a bat, how to pick a lock, start a fire without matches and use a sextant to navigate the high seas, (not that she’d ever actually put that last skill to the test).

  Marley missed him terribly.

  The insurance company investigating the explosion that had resulted in her Uncle’s death had indicated that the gas hook-up on his houseboat had been faulty somehow, something about the way it had been wired had been wrong. Marley wondered if Uncle Max had felt anything when the boat blew up that night. Hopefully his death had been quick and painless.

  Eventually the water in her bath cooled slightly so Marley let a bit run out the drain then plugged it up and refilled the tub with hot water. Leaning her head back against the cool porcelain of the claw-footed tub Marley closed her eyes and dozed.

  In her dream, Marley found herself standing on a massive stone balcony carved into a mesa of solid white sandstone that jutted upward from the ground below. From her vantage point Marley could see distant fields and lush green crops growing tall and bountiful. Below her lay the shining surface of a lake. Along the water’s edge Marley could see date trees growing so burdened with ripe fruit they were bowed nearly down to the ground.

  A caravan of camels crossed the flowering plain below heading for the lake with huge wicker baskets lashed to their backs. These were filled with bolts of cloth and lidded woven baskets and colorful clay urns. A long line of men clothed in white robes walked alongside the caravans, minding the camels with coaxing words as they shuffled through the night.

  Before she could reflect on this unfamiliar view for very long, dream-Marley became aware of the notes of a distant song drifting to her on the breeze ever so sweetly. A silver stream of joyful harmony wrapped in a melody that echoed through her body like a choir of tolling bells. It was impossible to resist the call of this music, and without any thought or effort whatsoever dream-Marley leaned forward and flew fearlessly off the balcony, soaring out over the fields below. The camels didn’t even glance up at her as she swooped low over their heads.

  Out and up, dream-Marley flew above the fields past a green forest of trees across a winding river to the edge of a peaceful blue ocean edged by mountains under a sunset sky. The waves were azure and shimmered as they gently broke on white sand shorelines.

  Gleaming on the edge of a cliff high above these waves stood a white stone castle, a shining structure with towers at each of four corners. From the closest tower shone a beam of soft but strong white light. Irresistibly drawn to this, Marley flew into the tower and landed in a high-ceilinged room of white marble, coming to rest beside a beautiful young woman seated in a rocking chair.

&nb
sp; Moonlight poured through a large open window in the side of the turret, glowing the woman in a clear blue radiance. Marley could see that she wore a midnight blue silk dress upon which had been embroidered hundreds of tiny silver stars that glimmered against this background like the night sky.

  The woman’s pure white hair had been swept up into a chignon above brilliant blue eyes set over a straight, regal nose in an oval face. She had soft, full lips which seemed about to break into a smile. Overall it was a very kind face. In her lap she was holding a small silver harp, leaning into it as she played the haunting, lilting melody which Marley had been following.

  Even after the woman stopped playing her harp continued to sing, sending streams of silver notes pouring from its strings like smoke into the moonlight sky. They hung there glistening, miniature galaxies spiraling into the void of space beyond.

  Suns that mighty flame

  Will turn to ice some day

  Stars that brightly shine

  Will surely fade away

  Nothing is forever

  Nothing stays the same

  Inner light eternal

  Shows the path again

  Mountains tall will stand

  Then fall to earth as dust

  Oceans deep will flow

  Dry to bone they must

  Nothing is forever

  Nothing stays the same

  Inner light eternal

  Shows our path again

  Light alone can guide you