“‘So, what’s the real scoop, Jackie?’ he demanded. ‘It’d be wiser for you to just ‘fess up to what you’ve really been up to. And, please...spare me the bullshit about some ‘golden village’ this time. ‘Think you can do that, peckerhead—.’
“‘Lay off him, son!’ Grandpa intervened. ‘Let him eat something first, for God’s sake! Jack’s obviously got some explaining to do, but I’m sure we’ll get the story of what happened in due time. Now, come on over to the dinner table, y’all. Supper’s waiting and it’ll get cold soon.’
“Jeremy regarded me suspiciously before relenting to our grandfather’s words. Grandpa led the way to the kitchen, where we all converged on the table ready and waiting. I was famished since the chocolate cookie was the last thing I’d eaten. I literally shook when I pulled my chair out from the table, using the rest of my energy to sit down and pull myself up to my plate. Observing how weak I was, Grandpa placed some roast, creamed potatoes, and steamed vegetables onto my plate for me, and buttered a piece of warm bread, giving that to me as well.
“As usual, there was little conversation at the dinner table, although Grandpa and Jeremy briefly discussed the remarkable progress the firefighters made with the dwindling fire in the woods. After that, an awkward and tense silence pervaded the overall mood. Both my brother and grandfather kept a watchful eye on me throughout our meal together. I knew they were both anxious to hear my story, regardless of what Jeremy had said.
“The flashing red lights from the fire trucks parked just on the other side of the backyard’s wall flickered eerily in the evening’s deepening darkness, their reflections dancing on the kitchen walls as they trickled through the back porch door and kitchen windows. Frankly, I was surprised the emergency lights were visible at all from here, given the truck’s location and the obstructions of the wall and oak tree. They presented an unsettling reminder of what’d happened that day.
“‘Jack...Jack! Snap out of it, son!’ Grandpa told me, jolting my mind back into the present. ‘Go on and finish eating so you can tell us what’s been going on with you.’ He stood up and my normally aversive brother joined him in the early stages of clearing off the table. ‘Do you want any dessert, Jack?” Grandpa asked me. “I baked an apple pie if you’d be interested in having any.’
“‘No thanks, Grandpa,’ I said. ‘I think I’ve finished eating.’ I felt much better, and not to be outdone by Jeremy, I stood up and brought my own dishes over to the sink. ‘I might have some later,’ I told him.
“‘That’ll be fine, son.’
“Grandpa motioned for Jeremy and I to go on into the living room. He said he’d join us after he finished clearing the dinner table first. Jeremy waited for me to walk with him, which I wasn’t too keen about after the ruthless interrogation I’d endured earlier. But, he didn’t say anything this time.
“Before long Grandpa joined us in the living room. He switched on the overhead lights so we could all clearly see one another. ‘Why don’t you boys make yourselves comfortable on the sofa,’ he suggested.
“Jeremy and I went over to the sofa and sat down, taking our usual places on either end. My brother turned toward me, and I could feel his heavy stare while I gazed absently at the floor. Grandpa took his recliner and brought it over to where it directly faced me and then he sat down. After a moment of awkward silence he spoke.
“‘Okay, Jack, let’s have it,” he said. “I’d prefer that you start from the beginning and work your way from there. Oh, and Jeremy. Please don’t interrupt your brother. All right, son?’
“Jeremy shrugged his shoulders at Grandpa and offered a half smile to me. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then I began speaking to them of my incredible adventure. It was actually a lot easier for me to tell this tale than I’d figured it’d be, although at some points I lacked the words to adequately describe what I’d seen and gone through. I told them everything. Everything, that is, except for my intimate encounter with Genovene. Until this evening, I’d never shared it with anyone. I intended to keep that particular experience in the far corner of my mind, hoping that someday it’d be as good as forgotten. It’s never happened, so I guess you’re as good an audience as anyone, I reckon. Besides, you asked me to tell you as much as I possibly could. Hopefully it wasn’t more than you bargained for.”
“Absolutely not,” Peter assured him. “On the contrary, sharing your most personal experiences in regard to all this gives me deeper insight into what Genovene’s truly like. You couldn’t ask for a more appreciative audience. Trust me.”
“Well, all right.” Jack grinned sheepishly again. “Jeremy listened, and surprised me in that he did manage to contain himself this time. In fact, at some points of the story, he actually looked genuinely amazed at the things I described, even though he never was frightened by the scarier stuff I talked about. He remained seated for the duration of the tale; smoking the last few cigarettes from the scrunched-up pack in his shirt pocket.
“Grandpa also gave his full attention to me, listening quietly in his chair and occasionally puffing on the pipe he’d lit soon after I began my story. He seemed very thoughtful and a bit more sad than usual, especially when I related information about my parents and Allyson, the little girl from the village. He raised his eyebrows and puckered the side of his mouth on his pipe while slowly nodding his head, as if those particular points especially captured his interest.
“Once I finished, we all sat in silence for awhile. Grandpa finally stood up and walked over to a row of portraits hanging on the living room wall of my grandmother and us, along with a larger family portrait that included our parents. Jeremy and I followed him with our eyes until my brother grew restless.
“‘Well, Jackie. I suppose I owe you an apology for giving you a hard time about your ‘golden village’, man,’ he said. ‘I have to hand it to you, regardless of how much of what you told us is true or not, that was a good story. An interesting and damned good story, I’d say! There’s just some parts that are pretty hard to believe, and would take some ‘seeing’ before I could believe it all.’
“I nodded, pleased he found any of what I said relevant, and in complete shock he’d actually apologize to me. By my count, it was only the second time in my life he’d ever done that. Jeremy let me know he wasn’t finished talking yet, so I encouraged him to go on.
“‘But that bizarre fire today, and the goddamned thing you brought in here last night...the talisman? I saw those things with my own eyes, and to be honest with you, Jackie, I may have seen something myself last night. I could’ve sworn I saw a light glowing out in the woods when I got myself a drink before I went to bed. It was gold and misty, and seemed to get brighter by the second.
“‘Grandpa was out cold by then, snoring in the recliner. I woke him up and told him what I saw. We both ran out to the back porch to take a look, but whatever it was vanished by then. It just fucking disappeared, so I haven’t got any proof. I’m pretty sure it was there, though I guess it could’ve been an optical illusion or some shit like that.’ He shrugged his shoulders and opened a brand new pack of cigarettes, tapping out a fresh cancer-stick. He placed it between his teeth while he searched for his lighter.
“‘I saw it too, Jeremy,’ I said.
“Grandpa turned around to look at me, and Jeremy dropped the virgin cigarette out of his mouth, wearing perhaps the closest thing to true surprise we’d likely ever see on his face.
“‘I saw it when I went to bed and looked out my window last night,’ I explained. “I watched it till it died down. But y’all were still awake downstairs. Grandpa even called upstairs to make sure I was all right.’
“‘Wait a minute,’ said Jeremy, a look of confusion on his face. ‘You went to bed before midnight, if I remember correctly, and I saw the light around one or one-thirty. Hell, it could’ve even been a little later.’
“All three of us reflected silently on this. Given the implied nature of the information we’d just exchanged, whatever cau
sed the strange glow in the woods had done so more than once, maybe even several times throughout the night. Its source might’ve moved the sphere in the backyard while we slept, or while we conversed in the living room as we watched the baseball game, completely unaware something lurked outside in the backyard. Perhaps it crept up to the house and watched us sitting in the living room, or spied on Jeremy and myself as we stared at its strange glow, knowing what it planned for me the next day. I shuddered while Jeremy simply shrugged his shoulders again.
“Grandpa came back over and stood behind the recliner. He continued to smoke his pipe, leaning on the back of the chair as he eyed me directly. My brother and I both watched him, expecting him to say something profound at any moment. He waited awhile longer as if sorting his thoughts one last time, and then finally spoke.
“‘I believe your story, Jack, and I believe it in its entirety,’ he said, coming around to the front of the chair where he sat down again. ‘This isn’t the first time in my life that I’ve encountered the golden object you brought in here yesterday, as I’m sure you both could tell based on my reaction last night. But, it was the first time I recognized its importance right away, for it’s an evil thing. I wish I’d realized that twelve years ago, and if I’d understood its significance when I’d first seen one of these things as a child, I might’ve learned what to do with it back then. Perhaps most of what has happened since could’ve been avoided.’
“He grew thoughtful and sad again, and then hung his head in silence for a moment or two. When he looked back up, tears welled in his eyes like they’d done the previous evening. He wiped his eyes with his shirtsleeve and then looked at his watch. My story had taken nearly an hour and a half and the time was now approaching ten o’clock.
“‘It’s getting late, boys, and I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day,” he said. ‘I have a story of my own to tell that should shed some light on Jack’s story. But it can wait till tomorrow. I want to take a look at the area you went to today, Jack. Jeremy needs...and so do I...to see where it happened. I think it will benefit us all.’
“I cringed as Grandpa said this. I definitely did not want to go back there. Ever!
“‘Jack’ he said, his voice soft with compassion. ‘Don’t be afraid. I think you’ll find the area will look nothing like it did today. The ‘City of Gold’ you visited appears to folks only every so often. In fact, every time it’s been sighted in my lifetime, it’s vanished before it could be verified and investigated. It disappears so quickly that no one has even been able to photograph the place. You’ll see. By the time we get back there tomorrow, the city will be long gone.’
“Of course, I’d already seen the area transform before my very eyes after I crossed the river and looked back. But what about the fire still burning in the woods? Granted, it seemed to be under control for the time being, but who could say it’d remain that way? Moreover, what if Vydora was still on the loose out there somewhere, just waiting for me to return to the river? What then?? I silently contemplated these things when the doorbell rang.
“‘Well, who on earth could that be at this hour?’ wondered Grandpa, as he walked over to the front door and turned on the porch light, then peered through the peephole. Carl Peterson and Sheriff Joe McCracken stood on the front porch, squinting in the brightness of the porch light.
“‘Good evening, Marshall,’ said Carl, after Grandpa opened the door for him. ‘Sorry to bother y’all at this late hour, but we saw the living room lights on and figured someone was still up.’ He looked genuinely pained to disturb us, but something in his eyes said it was real important for him to do so. He and Grandpa had been close friends since grade school, even though Grandpa was nearly four years older. As kids, he never minded Carl tagging along and their friendship grew from there. Carl was the best man at Grandpa and Grandma’s wedding many years ago, and was present when Grandpa retired as manager of the local saw mill when I was ten. In fact, he was one of the few friends that remained true once the bullshit started about my parents’ sudden disappearance.
“‘Come on in,’ Grandpa said, stepping aside to allow them entry into our home. Carl was quite a bit heavier than my grandfather, with thinning gray hair and pale blue eyes that stood out from his flushed complexion. Sheriff McCracken, on the other hand, was a thin, deeply tanned man in his mid-forties, with dark brown eyes and brown hair revealing slight touches of gray along his sideburns and moustache. Although Grandpa didn’t know him well, he seemed to respect him.
“‘Well, hello, boys!’ Carl said, and then smiled as he extended a meaty hand out for both of us to shake, as we remained seated on the sofa. ‘I don’t believe either of you’ve met Sheriff McCracken.’
“‘Pleased to meet you both,’ offered the sheriff, who then extended his hand for us to shake as well.
“‘So, what’s the latest on the fire, Carl? It’s still under control, ain’t it?’ Grandpa asked.
“‘Yeah, it’s definitely under control,’ Carl sighed. ‘There’s not even a glowing ember remaining from it anywhere, and we’ve covered the area twice thoroughly. ‘Nothing’s left but smoke and blackened trees. It’s by far the strangest fire I’ve ever been involved with. Almost like it started dying on its own once we got here. All I know is we encountered a few problems getting water flow from two of our trucks to work right, meaning we were operating at maybe forty- percent capacity. It turned out we didn’t even need that much, since the flames died immediately once our few working hoses hit them. That’s why we were able to tell the Demopolis boys to go on back home. Definitely, it’s been one strange scene. ‘Ain’t ever seen anything like it—I mean never in the forty-six years I’ve been doing this for a living.’
“Carl paused, studying all three of us before turning to Sheriff McCracken. The sheriff gave him a slight nod and he turned his attention back to my grandfather. ‘That’s not why we’re here, though, Marshall. At least not the main reason we stopped by.’
“Grandpa appeared perplexed, though Jeremy and I were pretty sure he wasn’t really. ‘Oh? What’s up, Carl?’
“‘Well, we’re actually wanting to ask Jack a few questions, Marshall, if it’d be all right with you.’
“Grandpa hesitated before looking over at me to gauge my reaction. After indicating I’d be fine with that, Grandpa gave his okay. Sheriff McCracken took over at this point, after Grandpa offered him a seat in his favorite chair. He moved the recliner closer to me and sat down, removing a small notebook and pen from his shirt pocket. He leaned in toward me, lightly tapping his pen on the notebook. Grandpa and Carl moved over and stood behind him, looking on from either side.
“‘Jack, you’re not in any trouble,’ the sheriff told me. ‘So, let me start out by assuring you of that. What I’ve come to find out is this: were you anywhere near Ben Johnson’s place this afternoon? If the answer’s ‘yes’, did you see anything unusual?’
“‘I walked by there with Banjo somewhere around six-thirty this evening,’ I replied after only a moment’s deliberation. I was determined to stick with the basic facts. No need for crazy tales about running for my life to escape an angry fire-breathing dragon at this point.
“‘Well, you see, Pete Aderley confirmed he saw you and a billy goat about that time,’ stated the sheriff. ‘You know Pete, don’t you? He owns the feed lot that sits next to the Johnson’s farm, just south of their farmhouse and silo, up near the road.’ He paused to allow me a moment to confirm I knew Mr. Aderley, which I did.
“Anyway, Pete only saw you in passing, but told me he noticed you were on your way to the front door of the farmhouse. A few minutes later when he looked again, you had moved over by the barn. This time, he watched you long enough to see you leave the area and head toward the woods. Again, since you weren’t there long, we’re not suspecting you of doing anything—believe me, son.
“‘Pete went back to what he was doing, which was unloading feed from his truck into the storage bins in the small warehouse on his lot.
About ten minutes after he saw you leave the Johnson’s farm, he heard a tremendous racket going on next door, along with what he thought at the time was a small earthquake. It was strong enough to knock a few bags of feed off the truck and down on top of him, pinning him underneath. From what he told us, he laid there terrified, listening to all the commotion and unable to crawl out from under the feed sacks.
“‘Now, here’s where it gets pretty weird, and it’s where we could sure use your help, son,’ said Sheriff McCracken. ‘We need to know if you saw or heard anything, no matter how strange or crazy it may have seemed at the time. Pete swears he heard some god-awful roar, like from one of those dinosaur-action movies. Excuse me for saying so, but whatever he heard scared the holy hell out of him. I mean, it scared him so bad he literally pissed his pants! You know something pretty bad had to happen to scare a man enough to make him do something as embarrassing as that. I hate seeming so indiscreet, but I need you to understand the depth of his fear.
“‘Right after he heard the roar, everything went completely quiet. Pete said it was like whatever made the noise stopped right in the middle of making it again, as if something, or someone, shut it off, like hitting the ‘mute’ button on a remote.’ He stopped to look around and make sure we were still with him so far. To his surprise, I’m sure, Jeremy, Grandpa, and I were all straight-faced and fully attentive to what he was telling us. He smiled shyly.
“‘I’m about to get to the point of this, and appreciate your patience,’ he said. ‘Pete’s son, Sam, arrived about thirty minutes later to check on his daddy and was quite alarmed to find him hollering beneath the feed sacks. Sam uncovered him and then got him cleaned up. Pete’s all right, by the way, with no broken bones—just a bruised ego, I guess you’d say!’ He chuckled lightly and we all politely snickered.
The Golden Talisman Page 24
