The Year's Best Australian Fantasy and Horror 2014 (Volume 5)

by Kaaron Warren

  No she is not going to be alright, the Reverend told me in a voice that sounded strange cause of his nose and all the blood. Your mother is Satan’s whore, he said. She will get older. She will get sicker. She will die and die and die until she’s rotted away, and that is God’s punishment. I’ll pray no more for her peaceful end.

  Then he just walked away and out the front door.

  Daddy was still comin down the stairs but he stopped when he saw me cryin. He put his arm round me. Sat me down on the bottom step.

  What did he say to you? Daddy asked but I couldnt speak.

  Its okay, he said and held me tight. His heart was beatin real fast. Its okay, he said again and I looked up to see he was cryin too. He was starin out the still open front door and we could hear the Reverend’s crappy old car drivin away real fast into the distance.

  That was the last we ever saw of the Reverend, though I think Daddy received a letter from his lawyer once. It was also the last time Daddy ever let Momma hurt anyone. Now Daddy makes us all listen to the Reverend’s Sunday Night Miracle Revival hour on the radio instead. He plays it real loud when the hymns come on and I know he’s just doin it to punish Momma.

  * * *

  So anyway, thats why Momma got moved out to the barn. Daddy says what happened with the Reverend is the reason, but I dont believe him. I reckon its in case the Lazarenes come knockin again. So they wont see Momma and Momma wont see them. Daddy says that would be best for everyone.

  Daddy always keeps the bedroom door locked now. Aint nobody allowed in there but I hear him late at night when he thinks we’re all asleep. He creeps in and sits in there but I dont hear no cryin or nothin. I know it used to be his bedroom too, before Momma got sick. I dont know why he dont take the room back for himself but he dont. Every night he’s sleepin on the spare bed in the sewin room.

  I think its a shame, all Momma’s nice things locked up in that bedroom. Like Daddy’s the only one allowed to remember her that way. Every day I go out the barn and every day my memories of her are replaced with somethin horrible. Am I supposed to forget she was beautiful? Thats why I sneaked the key last night while Daddy was asleep in front of the TV. I crept upstairs and unlocked the door. Didnt open it though. Not at first. Just stood there with my hand on the cool brass doorknob. Hopin that when I opened the door Momma would be sittin at her dresser, brushin her hair and lookin at herself in the mirror.

  When I went in she wasnt there. The room was empty. There were dark stains all over the bed and the carpet. It was blood. I have no idea if it was Momma’s or the Reverend’s. It made me think of the Reverend’s face with his nose hangin off. It made me feel sick. I took a deep breath like the air was poison and rushed in and took a photo from the dresser. It was Momma when her and Daddy first met. Her hair was up, showin off her long neck. She had makeup on and her lips were red and her cheeks pink. She was smilin. I cant remember ever seein her smile.

  I ran out of the room with the photo still in my hands. Ran before my breath ran out. Before I had to breathe in the poison.

  In the hall I sat down and cried, Momma’s photo clutched tight to my chest. Maybe I fell asleep then cause when I woke up I was in bed. Daddy mustve carried me there. Momma’s photo was propped on the bedside table. It looked like she was smilin at me.

  * * *

  Momma dont look like her photo no more. Thats part of the sickness and some say millions of people caught it. Daddy and the Reverend say only sinners caught it, but now even the unrighteous are safe cause the government gave us all shots. Came too late for Momma though and Daddy wont even tell me how she sinned. I cant ever remember her bein no such thing as a sinner. All I know is she’ll get older and she’ll get sicker and she’ll die and die and die. The Reverend once said a sermon about Resurrection and Eternal Life. Bet he never imagined it would look like Momma.

  First of all she got thinner and none of us really noticed. I think Daddy must of noticed cause at first he was holdin and kissin Momma more than before. He bought her a new dress that was short and tight and black. Momma didnt feel like wearin it though. Told Daddy she was too tired for those sort of games. She stopped eatin then and got thinner still. Started sleepin most the day. When she was up she was always bumpin into things and she bruised somethin terrible. Purple and blue and yellow all over her arms and legs and face. Eyes goin all filmy. She started talkin to herself. Cussin under her breath. Sometimes she got angry. Threw things. Smashed things.

  All this happened and none of us really noticed til she fell down the stairs chasin the cat. Broke her leg and the bone was stickin out and that didnt stop her nohow. Momma dived onto that cat before it was halfway out the catflap in the kitchen door. Cant blame Emma and Jimmy and me too much. We werent much more than babies. How would we know what a person should be like? Daddy should of realised sooner though. He knows Momma better than anyone. He shouldnt of left Jimmy and me at home with Emma when he took Momma to see Doctor Roberts either, and he shouldnt of told me to clean up the mess in the kitchen.

  Who is it asks a seven year old to mop up their dead cat?

  * * *

  Its cold outside and Momma’s been wailin all day. I dont want to go outside but thats the way it is. Daddy and Jimmy have gone into town and wont be back til late, and Emma’s asleep on the couch.

  Its not just the cold nor Momma’s wailin why I dont want to go outside. Reason is, the Lazarenes were here again.

  I didnt open the door. Just stood quiet in the hall and waited for them to go away. I could see their thin shapes through the frosted glass. Their long necks and bald heads. I had to wait ages. I’m sure they knew I was there.

  * * *

  Nine times my Momma’s died, least that I know of. Twice from infection, once from heart failure, and another time she had a stroke. Once Daddy made her have a shower and she fell down and broke her neck. Her head was wobbly for weeks. We think that time was an accident. All the times other than those? Momma done it to herself on purpose.

  First time she died was after chasin the cat. Daddy didnt bring her home that night. Doctor Roberts rushed her straight to hospital and she stayed in there for ages cause her leg wouldnt get better. Just when the doctor was thinkin of choppin it off, she died. Next day? Guess what? She woke up again.

  Her leg was mended, but not proper. Its still bent at a funny angle and leaks blood and pus. Thats the way it is with the sickness. Momma’ll never get better, no matter how hard she tries. Daddy says this means she might not ever get to Heaven. Maybe not til Judgement Day, cause no one knows how long her body can keep goin. We all just have to be patient, Daddy says.

  I dont think Momma believes him, or maybe she doesnt want to wait that long, cause she keeps tryin to get to Heaven anyways. First she hanged herself in the attic with a scarf and swung there two days before Daddy found her. Then she drowned herself in the bathtub. Another time she tried to cut her wrists with a butter knife and it took me all day to clean up the blood. Once, she drunk drain cleaner and that wasnt nice for anyone.

  Jimmy, who is two years oldern me, says there are other times too. Times I dont know about. He says he saw Daddy, back when Momma was still in her bedroom, and Daddy was holdin a pillow over Momma’s face. And when I was at camp for two weeks? Jimmy says Daddy didnt feed her nothin at all. I dont know if Jimmy’s tellin the truth or if he’s just bein mean. Boys can be mean, but I dont think Jimmy would lie about Momma.

  * * *

  Momma’s wailin stops real sudden and that gets me worryin if maybe she’s gone done somethin to herself again. It makes me forget all about the Lazarenes.

  When I go out the backdoor I almost forget her bucket too, but I go back. Its late and Momma will be hungry. The bucket aint very full though, what with Daddy and Jimmy still in town and only me and Emma home. Daddy says us girls eat like birds and how Momma’s the one gonna suffer for that. Momma’s always the one gets to suffer, seems to me.

  I remember to take a torch, but I dont need it. The night
is clear and the moon near full like a big old chicken’s egg in the sky. I can already see that the barn door is open and theres a light on inside. This is where I stop cause I know Daddy’s not home and I wonder if maybe I left the light on last night or if maybe Emma was out singin songs to Momma? I dont know. I dont think so. And all the time that I’m wonderin I dont even realise I’ve started movin forward again. Just small slow steps, but before I know it I’m standin real quiet at the barn door and lookin in.

  The door to Momma’s stall is open and she’s just sittin on the dirt and straw, all calm. Theres a Lazarene kneelin and it looks like he’s talkin to her. I cant hear what he’s sayin, but I can see his lips movin.

  I’m just about to step in and say somethin, cause I know Daddy wouldnt like it, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. Its firm but gentle and colder than the night. I shiver at its touch and turn just my head, as if my body has been frozen, and I’m lookin up into the face of the other Lazarene.

  His skin is thin as Bible paper. Eyes all milky. Lips so tight they couldve been stitched together. But they arent cause next thing the Lazarene opens his mouth and speaks to me.

  This sickness will not end in death, he says. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.

  His voice sounds desert dry. Rough and rattlin in his throat and lungs. I have no idea what he is talkin about. His words sound like somethin the Reverend would say. The Lazarene looks towards Momma’s stall and nods his head as if he’s pointin at somethin with his nose. I look and see its at Momma’s plaster Jesus hangin on the barn wall.

  Those were the words of your Saviour, the Lazarene says. Is it right that your mother should suffer so? That she should suffer for the glorification of another?

  I’m not sure what he’s askin but I shake my head. No, I say, Momma shouldnt have to suffer.

  His long fingers are still grippin my shoulder and he leads me into the barn. Theres some sort of strange incense makin things foggy and all smellin like flowers. I can see Momma and the other Lazarene still sittin. The Lazarene is sayin somethin, maybe prayin. Looks to me like Momma’s actually listenin.

  You’d best leave, I say and my whole body is tremblin. Daddy will be home soon and he dont like you much. He says you’re devils who wanna stop Momma from goin to Heaven.

  Theres a change in the dry rattle of his breathin and I wonder if he is laughin.

  We’d rather release her from hell, he says and we stop at Momma’s stall and just stand there sayin nothin else. The other Lazarene has taken a little box from out his robes. He opens it and takes out a little paper cup and what looks like one of Daddy’s vitamin pills, but red. The Lazarene peels the lid from the cup and leans forward. He’s offerin the cup and the pill to Momma, one in each hand, like he’s the Reverend offerin up the Lord’s Supper at Communion.

  He better not get too close, I say. Momma bites.

  They crave the flesh and blood of their Saviour, the Lazarene says. But they cannot have it. And why? Because their Lord Jesus Christ is dead. Surely you must know this. When was the last time he answered your prayers? When was the last time he answered your mother’s or father’s prayers?

  I dont know what to say. I’m thinkin of an answer when Momma reaches out and takes the pill. She stuffs it in her mouth like its some juicy treat. Grabs the cup and tips it between her lips. The lump of her throat moves up and down when she swallows. She looks at the Lazarene before her and smiles. My Momma actually smiles.

  When was the last time my prayers were answered? Right then, thats when! Right that very moment with Momma sittin calm and serene and smilin. Not just her teeth either, which are brown and rotted away, but the smile is in her sharp boned cheeks and hollow clouded eyes. It is a smile I’ve only ever seen in the photograph. Never in real life.

  I turn to thank the Lazarene for whatever it is they done for Momma. He’s lookin right at me and looks sad. This Communion is not permanent, he says, it is just her first.

  And thats when I see the truck headlights comin down the long drive to the house.

  You have to leave, I say. My heart is racin all of a sudden but the Lazarene just looks and doesnt even blink. Lazarenes never seem to blink. You have to go, I say again more urgent. You have to go, Daddy’s got a gun.

  The Lazarene seems to smile and inside his mouth is all wet grey gums. He has no teeth at all. I pull away from his bony hand and realise I’m still carryin Momma’s bucket. Its so late and she hasnt even eaten. Daddy will be furious.

  I’m shakin as I enter Momma’s stall and the other Lazarene is standin up now, his hand restin gently on Momma’s head. I cant see his little box, so he must of put it back inside his robes. He looks at me as I enter and I tell him he’s got to leave too. I can hear Daddy’s truck pullin up outside the house. If I’m not inside and Daddy sees the lights on out here, he’ll come outside for a look or send Jimmy to do it maybe. Either way would be bad.

  I step between the Lazarene and my Momma and put the bucket down. She down looks at it and then up at me and then over my shoulder.

  Thank you, Momma says, and I’m too stunned by her words to know if she’s thankin me or the Lazarene. When I look around, the Lazarenes are gone and the barn is empty of everythin except me and Momma and the smell of incense.

  * * *

  Daddy didnt find out about the Lazarenes visitin, least not that night he didnt. I was back inside before him and Jimmy had even finished unpackin the truck. It wasnt til the mornin when he went out to check on Momma that he knew somethin had happened.

  I went with him, followin close behind cause I was scared of what he might find. Thought maybe I could distract him if I had to. There was no way of distractin him from what we saw when we come out the backdoor though.

  The barn doors had been painted over with a giant green cross. Like four arrowheads all aimin for the middle. As soon as Daddy saw it he went batshit. Started screamin real loud for the effin demons to leave his wife alone. He was runnin before he’d even finished sayin the words and I had trouble keepin up. Daddy has such longer legs than me. He got to the barn doors first and pressed his fingers to the cross. They came back green and sticky with paint and the color looked strange against the red rage of his skin. He reached out and grabbed the handle to slide open the doors and the handle became green too.

  Inside the barn, Momma was sittin quiet in her stall. Her chain was piled up in her lap and she was fingerin it like a Rosary. She stopped when Daddy opened the stall gate. No longer beautiful. No longer the woman in my photograph. Over time her hair had fallen out in sympathy with her teeth. Skin pulled thin across her skull. Her cloudy eyes starin right at Daddy.

  Lord behold, she said, he whom thou lovest is sick.

  Her voice was dry as sand. I hadnt noticed til then just how much she looked and sounded like one of the Lazarenes, but she did. Their bodies were healed and scarred where Momma’s still ran red and yellow with infection and rot. Their heads were smooth where Momma’s flaked skin and hair. What she was sayin sounded like somethin the Lazarene would have said too. I didnt recognize it but Daddy did.

  Did you let them in here? he asked me and there was thunder in his voice and in his eyes and in the beat of blood at his temples. What did they do to your Momma? he shouted. Tell me what those demons did to her or I’ll get my belt.

  For me, tellin a lie is like holdin your breath, except the air you are holdin in is the truth. You can only do it for so long before you burst. Thats what happened while Daddy was screamin and threatenin the belt. I couldnt hold that truth in no more and it all just come rushin out.

  The Lazarenes were here, I said. But I didnt let them in. I came out to feed Momma and they were in here and I asked them to leave but they wouldnt. I think they were tryin to help Momma, Daddy. They said Jesus couldnt help her cause he’s dead. Is that true? Is Jesus dead?

  I’m sure Daddy was goin to hit me then cause he raised one hand up over his head and his palm was open wide for a
slap. He didnt do it though cause next thing Momma spoke again.

  He shall rise again in the resurrection at the Last Day, Momma said. He shall rise again at the Last Day like Lazarus.

  Thats when Daddy turned on Momma and forgot all about me. His hand came down and grabbed Momma’s chain. He took it up and coiled it round her neck. He pulled it tight and I thought he was goin to lift Momma right up off the floor but she grabbed at the chain with her hands and scrambled to her feet. Her eyes were all bulged. I could see she couldnt breath. One of her hands was caught up in the chain, the tips of her fingers pokin out and bendin all wrong and turnin purple. Momma lashed out with her other hand and her dirty nails raked Daddy’s face. Daddy pushed her hard back to the ground and started draggin her across the stall and I just knew he was goin to hoist that chain over a rafter and hang her.

  He remembered me then. Get out, he shouted, just get out!

  And I did. I ran all the way out the barn and to the house and up the stairs to my bedroom. From way outside in the barn Daddy was still shoutin scripture and Momma was screamin and I was thinkin that Jesus must be dead cause if he wasnt how could he be lettin this happen?

  * * *

  Daddy came to my room later that night. The shoutin and screamin from the barn had stopped and when he came sat on my bed he smelled of sweat and beer. He didnt talk for a while and it looked like he had been cryin. There were four long red scratches down his cheek. I didnt have no sympathy for him.

  I hate whats happenin to your Momma, he told me. I hate that she’s sick but thats the hand the Lord has dealt. It hurts us all to do what I have to do, but the Lazarene are demons. Satan sent them, just as he sent your Momma’s sickness, to stop people gettin to Heaven. We cant let that happen to your Momma can we? Do you want her to become an agent of Satan? Do you want her to leave us?