Kat on a Hot Tin Airship (Kat Lightfoot Mysteries)

by Sam Stone

  In the distance I could hear the beating of a drum. The same beat and sound I had heard almost every night since we arrived. I’d heard of these practices among the blacks, of the rituals they brought with them, how they honoured barbaric, ancient gods that demanded sacrifices. What was it Big Momma had called it? Voodoo. That was right. This was something to do with their superstitions.

  Felina nudged me from behind, but I stayed where we were under cover of the trees and tied her up under the best shelter I could find. Some instinct made me realise that it would be unwise to reveal my presence. Unobserved, I crept back to the clearing, crouched down in the long grass and watched the proceedings.

  It struck me that there was no rain in the clearing, yet it continued to come down on me where I hid in the forest. In fact the grass and trees and people in this area were all dry, even though thick cloud still loomed above.

  The drum began to beat faster and louder, and the people, including Big Daddy, took up a chant that was incomprehensible to me. One of the servant girls I had seen previously began to dance before Isaac, she was no longer wearing her uniform, but wore instead some kind of loin cloth, her naked breasts were barely covered by a crude necklace that appeared to be made of small bones that looked as sharp as the teeth of a shark. Isaac shook the staff over her as though he were giving some form of blessing, and she danced away to the rhythmic beat of the drum. Soon more of the girls came, one after another, all semi-naked as they danced, twisting and turning beneath the rattling bones of Isaac’s staff.

  When this part of their strange communion was done, the men came, one after another and finally Isaac went up to Big Daddy and shook the bones over him.

  It was then that I noticed that Big Daddy was not quite himself. He didn’t respond to the ritual as the others did, he merely stared ahead, as though he was sleeping with his eyes open.

  Isaac spoke but the language he used was not something I recognised. It was something primal, guttural at times, high-pitched at others. More a collection of sounds that made no sense at all than a language. The servants seemed to understand him though, or at least they responded in a way that indicated some level of comprehension for the ritual.

  My maid servant, Milly, stepped forward. She was carrying a chicken, and it clucked and twisted, unusable wings flapping as though it knew what fate was facing it. She followed Isaac as he led her in dance-like steps around the group. All the time the chicken tried to escape from her fingers, but she somehow managed to hold on.

  As they once more reached the foot of Big Daddy’s makeshift throne, one of the men danced forward with a large curved knife. With every step he swung the knife around his body with practised ease as he gyrated to the staccato drum rhythm until he reached the foot of the throne.

  Another man stepped forward holding a small pedestal that supported a large bowl. Isaac caught the chicken by its feet, pulled it free of Milly’s fingers and it fell, head pointing downwards, wings still flapping. He held the bird over the bowl with one hand. With the other he took the curved knife. Before I could react he severed the head from the bird and its decapitated body jerked and wriggled as though it were still alive. Blood splashed over Big Daddy who remained unmoved by the scene. Then Isaac gave the knife back to the young man who had brought it, and he now used his other hand to still the jerking of the dead bird while he captured the remains of the blood in the bowl.

  The tempo of the drum picked up. An echo of sound shifted through the air and the clouds above began to clear. Slanted shafts of light cut through and illuminated the clearing. Then the congregation danced once more around the bowl as Isaac dipped his fingers in the blood and smeared the forehead of each of his disciples with the ichor.

  I didn’t know what to do at this point. The sacrifice of a bird was clearly to satisfy some strange belief and didn’t horrify me. I could also sense no malice in the practice. There was a kind of beauty in the proceedings that led me to believe they weren’t intending anything evil. The sunlight reassured me because the Darkness and its hordes always shunned light. The people here, however, seemed to embrace it as they danced around. But I didn’t like the way Big Daddy appeared to be absent, even though he was physically present. He made no move at anytime, which indicated that perhaps a drug was being used on him, to make him compliant. Or that he was under some form of hypnosis.

  I looked again around the group. I was sure that all of them were human, but I had only ever known supernaturals to be really capable of using mesmerism on their victims. It was not a skill that humans could employ to any particular effect, and certainly not as deeply as this was. Then another figure, a woman dressed in a robe, came from the other side of the clearing. I hadn’t noticed her standing there because the robe was tones of green and browns and had somehow merged with the forest backdrop. She approached the pedestal and kneeled. Isaac dipped his fingers once more in the bowl and the woman threw back the hood of her robe.

  It was Maggie.

  I almost stood and revealed myself then, but I held back. This was a story that might play out to give me some information. Maggie was not hypnotised and in some trance-like state, she was fully alert and aware of what she was doing.

  ‘Miss Maggie do you accept the help of the congregation to help protect your unborn child from the demon’s spawn?’ Isaac said, his voice reaching me clearly.

  ‘Will it make it leave?’ Maggie asked.

  ‘We cannot make the demon leave, Miss Maggie. That is not a power in our hands. But we can protect you and your children.’

  Maggie nodded as though resigned to some fate she had no control over.

  ‘I accept your help,’ she said.

  Isaac took up the bone-laden staff once more and began to dance around Maggie. Her shoulders slumped and she dropped her head as though in prayer. Then Isaac’s followers each took up the staff and imparted their strange blessing.

  The rain in the forest stopped sometime during the ceremony. I waited for the proceedings to end and for Isaac and his people to leave. But I marked the way they went, particularly Maggie, who helped her dazed father from the throne as they headed back to what I hoped was in the direction of the main house.

  I hurried back to Felina and began to walk her towards the clearing.

  ‘Miss Kat!’

  I turned and it was with some relief that I saw Orlando riding towards me.

  ‘My goodness are you all right?’ he asked. ‘When I realised you were gone I circled back but couldn’t find you.’

  ‘I’m fine. I just took shelter from the rain,’ I said, but I was confused and unnerved by what I had seen. The whole thing had raised more questions than it had answered.

  ‘Come, the exit is this way,’ said Orlando. He pointed in the opposite direction to the clearing.

  ‘I thought I saw a way through this way,’ I said, feeling unsure. Maybe he was deliberately trying to lose me in the forest.

  Orlando’s eyes showed a moment of fear as I pointed towards the clearing. ‘Not that way. I can’t go that way.’

  I studied him for a moment, noting the genuine horror in his face. Maybe he knew of the rituals and was appalled by them. Perhaps the time had come for me to stop being discrete and start asking questions?

  ‘Orlando I just went this way and I saw …’

  Orlando backed away from me. ‘It’s this way …’ he insisted. ‘I promise not to lose you again.’

  ‘Orlando …’ I said but I knew that to question him was useless. He looked truly terrified. And so I did the only thing I could do, I climbed back onto Felina and followed him.

  Just a few moments later we were out of the forest and back on a dirt track road. As soon as she could Felina took up a gallop back towards the house. It was almost as though she couldn’t wait to be back in the safety of the stable.

  15

  I was determined to get some answers from Maggie about what was going on. Enough was enough. This had been the strangest morning I had ever had. After I had remo
ved my soaking clothing, dried my hair and changed into a comfortable day-dress I went in search of her. My first port of call was her room. I had decided that I would bring this all out in the open even if Henry was there.

  I rapped firmly on the door and within a few moments Maggie answered. She looked normal. Well as normal as someone who had been smeared in chicken’s blood less than an hour earlier could look.

  ‘Are you alone?’ I asked.

  ‘Hi Kat, what’s wrong?’ Henry said coming up behind Maggie.

  ‘I need to talk to you both.’

  Maggie stepped back and let me into the room.

  ‘I know something is wrong between you two,’ I said.

  Maggie began to protest immediately, but Henry merely bowed his head. He slumped down onto the edge of the bed and put aside the crutch.

  ‘How’s your leg?’ I said remembering my manners.

  ‘A little better. But you came here to talk – so let’s talk,’ Henry said.

  ‘Henry, no …’ Maggie said quietly. ‘Really Kat, there’s nothing wrong. We’re happy. We love each other.’

  ‘There’s no denying you love each other, Maggie,’ I said. ‘But the problems you have stem from something in this house and I want to know what it is.’

  Maggie shook her head in denial.

  ‘I saw you today. In the clearing.’

  ‘Oh my lord!’ Maggie put her hand to her mouth, then glanced at Henry. ‘I was trying to save our marriage.’

  ‘You want to save our marriage? Then you need to start telling me the truth. I can’t stand this anymore. Who is he?’

  ‘I never betrayed you …’

  ‘I saw you …’ Henry interrupted.

  ‘Henry, I think Maggie is telling you the truth. Pieces of this puzzle have been pulling themselves together all week, but there is one major player in this that I don’t understand. It’s time you told us everything you know Maggie. I don’t believe anyone can help you until they understand the whole story. You may not know this, but Pepper, Martin and I have seen some very strange things in this world. I have a better understanding than most about the supernatural. I also know that the ritual you took part in today won’t do a thing to protect you.’

  ‘Ritual?’ Henry said.

  ‘Big Momma swears by the blacks’ rituals. She says they helped her, when I was a child, when Orlando …’

  ‘What about Orlando? What part does he play?’ I asked.

  ‘Orlando? Nothing. He wouldn’t hurt a fly …’

  ‘Tell me more about Orlando. When was he born?

  Maggie laughed ‘About five minutes before I was.’

  ‘Five minutes?’ I asked.

  ‘Didn’t you realise? Orlando and I are twins.’

  ‘That’s not possible …’ I said.

  ‘Well we don’t look much alike, true. But we both came from Big Momma on the same night …’

  A moment of clarity. The puzzle pieces slid into place as though goose fat had been smeared on them. If Orlando was a nephilim, and he and Maggie were twins, it made Maggie a nephilim also. But Maggie’s eyes were normal. She seemed completely human.

  I had always assumed that Big Momma had been seduced by a demon. Through my contact with the boy I had learnt that the demon was called Callon. I was certain he was also the father of Orlando, which explained Big Daddy’s obvious rejection of Orlando. But – then Callon had to be Maggie’s father also, didn’t he?

  ‘Maggie you need to tell me everything,’ I said again. ‘This all has to stop if you and Henry are to be happy again.’

  ‘I’m not having an affair Henry,’ Maggie said. ‘But there is something living in our house. It’s a ghost. I can’t believe I’m telling you this … you’ll probably think I’m insane … but I have been aware of it ever since I was a child.’

  Henry said nothing.

  ‘It’s true,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen it too. It also scared Sally our first night here. It’s a demon by the name of Callon and it tried to kill me a few nights ago.’

  ‘Callon? So that is what he’s called …’ Henry said.

  ‘Isn’t that who you meant Maggie? Isn’t that who Henry saw you with? Isn’t that the shadow that always seems to be on your shoulder.’

  Maggie became agitated and started to pace the room. ‘I don’t know who he is. I never asked his name. I just know he … follows me around sometimes. It got worse after Henry and I married. He even followed us when we left the plantation.’

  ‘You’re saying the man I saw you with was some kind of … ghost?’ Henry said.

  Maggie nodded. ‘He’s been around all my life. But … when I started to grow up it all got worse.’

  Maggie didn’t know what the spirit, or demon as I believed him to be, wanted. She felt harried by him though. It was like bad luck following her everywhere.

  I questioned her more about the ritual she had taken part in earlier.

  ‘It was to protect any children that Henry and I might have.’

  ‘I figured out that much on my own. Protect them from what though?’

  Maggie shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I thought it meant they would never be able to be haunted by this thing.’

  ‘I have a feeling I know who will know more,’ I said. ‘Henry, are you willing to help Maggie through this? Before the day is out we may learn a lot more about her and the family.’

  Henry took Maggie’s hand. ‘Yes. I’m still not sure what’s happening but I’m willing to try and get answers if it means we will be able to live a normal life again.’

  Maggie smiled at him and I saw hope in her eyes for the first time.

  16

  We found Big Momma in the garden. She was sitting at the table overlooking the lake, a fresh pot of tea was brewing and several cups and saucers had been laid out as though she were expecting us. Quietly we all joined her. I sat down opposite her, my back to the lake and Henry and Maggie sat either side.

  ‘You need to tell the truth, Momma,’ Maggie said taking her hand. ‘This whole thing is ruining my life. I know I’m not insane now. Too many people have seen It.’

  Big Momma was in the process of pouring tea into one of the cups. She stopped as Maggie spoke and put down the pot. Then she glanced back at the airship which almost completely blocked the view of the house from our position.

  ‘Kat dear, is your friend planning to stay long?’ asked Big Momma.

  ‘We plan to stay as long as it takes. I decided this morning that I’m not leaving Pollitt Plantation until I solve this mystery. You want rid of us, then you tell me what all this is about.’

  Big Momma sighed. She looked tired. Fragile. All of her vivacity had evaporated.

  ‘I married Big Daddy very young,’ she said. ‘But I always loved him. Even when he didn’t show me any emotion in return. He isn’t a sentimental sort you know.’

  I sat back in the chair, briefly wondering where Mother, Sally, Pepper and Martin were. But I pushed aside the thought that I hadn’t seen any of them all day, reasoning that they had probably decided to go out on a trip.

  ‘I fell pregnant almost immediately with you and Orlando, Maggie. Did I ever tell you that? Big Daddy and I are looking forward to the day when you make us proud grandparents too.’

  ‘Momma …’ Maggie said. ‘Please.’

  ‘I was an orphan when I met Big Daddy. Left alone to fend for my young sister,’ Big Momma continued. ‘Alice is her name. And she came with me to the Plantation after we married. We came from simple folk. We didn’t have slaves and Alice found them unnerving right from the start. But I hoped in time that she would get used to their ways, just as I would. I was of course determined to get used to everything here. I loved Pollitt Plantation right away. The sense of space, the history of the land and of Big Daddy’s people, and I liked the slaves. There was something about being surrounded by people that made me feel safe. Cared for. Do you know what I mean? I didn’t have to worry about anything anymore. It was a massive relief after the years of
caring for sick parents and a younger sister.

  ‘We settled into a quiet life on the plantation after the initial parties introduced me as Big Daddy’s wife. Alice enjoyed those too. She was only sixteen at the time and it was all new and exciting for her too.

  ‘After the first couple of months though, Alice started saying all kinds of crazy things about the house, about the slaves, about magic and superstition. She said she saw ghosts outside of the house. That the dead haunted the lands. I didn’t believe any of it of course. She had always had an overactive imagination and so I just put it down to the huge changes in our life and tried to spend a little more time with her in the day when Big Daddy was out with the overseers taking care of business.

  ‘But Alice wouldn’t leave it be. Sometimes she woke in the night, screaming and crying, saying that someone had tried to get inside her room from the balcony outside.

  ‘Soon the servants caught her terrors and they began to talk about evil spirits. Alice said she had seen a black figure walking the plantation at night. And the slaves began to get excited that some form of devil was on the land.

  ‘Big Daddy and I didn’t know what to do. Some of the slaves were calling her poor mad Miss Alice, while others were buying into the story. We even had a few of the girls try to run away. A situation that Big Daddy just couldn’t tolerate. He had to do something about it. And so he asked around the Cajun quarter for someone who could help dispel our troubles and investigate if there was any basis to Alice’s story. He reasoned that if he could prove it was imagination then Alice would settle down, forget this craziness and so would the slaves.

  ‘A friend of Big Daddy’s recommended getting in a preacher to sanctify the land. We decided that this was a good idea and so Big Daddy sent out one of the overseers to get the man they all seemed to recommend. His name was Derrin Callon, he was something of a new religion sort but we didn’t care if he could disprove all the hocus-pocus that was causing such unrest. It was truly an unnerving time for me. And at the same time I also fell pregnant and was feeling sick and suffering a lot from the heat.