Her initial response was to protest, but then she thought of Kai’s hand doing its magic under her skirt over lunch hour and remained quiet. She took a bite of chicken and chewed in uncomfortable silence.
“You’re truly a woman now, Jenny. A beautiful woman, just like your mother. It was easy for your mother to draw the attentions of other men.” He watched her with his stormy grey eyes, ignoring his food completely. “You wouldn’t be trying for the attentions of another boy, would you?”
She felt the heat rise to her face before she could deny it. Suddenly she was full of guilt, thinking about what had happened. About what had been on her mind of late. Not only during school, but last night while she lay in bed.
“I see. And who is this young man that seems to have drawn my young daughters interest?” His voice remained calm, but his neck turned the color of crimson. A telltale sign that his ire was rising.
She briefly considered playing at innocence but knew immediately that was a doomed path. He could read her like a book. “Just a boy. That I met at youth group.” She threw that in at end, thinking to mollify him.
“Youth group, hmm? I know all the boys that attend youth group and you’ve not shown an interest in any of them before. What’s changed?”
“It’s a new boy, daddy. He hasn’t attended before.”
Dennis stared at her, the coloring of his neck creeping up to his cheeks and forehead. “The new boy? The unbeliever? The one that Jeremy spoke to me about?” His voice grew louder with each question that he threw out in the form of an accusation. “That is the boy that my sweet daughter has taken an unholy fancy with!” He stood from the table, knocking his chair to the ground with a loud thunk, and paced around the room with thundering footfalls.
“Daddy, it’s not like I’m in love with him. I just find him . . .” Irresistible, she wanted to say, “Interesting,” she said.
“Interesting!” He rounded on her. “Interesting! You find his lack of faith interesting? No, lack of faith doesn’t capture it, does it? As I hear it, contempt is closer to the truth. You’d find a miscreant who holds our Lord in contempt to be interesting?”
“Not everybody starts on the right path, daddy. Aren’t we supposed to love all God’s creatures?”
Dennis took a deep breath and held it for a very long time, then let it out in a loud whoosh of air. “Love? Are you telling me you love this antagonistic snake?”
“Daddy!”
“No good rabble-rousing weasel! That’s what I hear!” His voice was booming throughout the house and she was getting scared now. “Love, you say! Well, I’ll show you some tough love!”
He grabbed her by the upper arm and half-pulled, half-dragged her into the living room, where he sat on the couch and flung her over his knee. She struggled to push herself off, to get to her feet, but his meaty hands were like iron. As she kicked her legs, his hands yanked at her skirt, pulling it violently up to her waist and exposing her bottom.
“Let me go! Please!”
“You think you’re a woman now?” Whack! “You think you know what love is?” Whack! “You think about this boy? Do you dream about him?” Whack! “You think the sheep should lay with the wolf!” Whack!
He stopped, his hand resting on her bottom. The only sound was Jenny’s cries, coming out strangled through the compression of her lungs as she lay draped over his legs.
When he spoke again, his voice was calm. Contemplative, even. Like he was recalling a memory to himself in private. “Your mother vexed me in such a way. I loved her, but she vexed me.” His hand squeezed at her bottom, igniting a flair of pain from the welts that were rising there. He seemed not to notice her whimpers. “You’re a lot like your mother. Too much like her, I’m beginning to think. She was a wayward sheep. I tried to bring her back to the flock, I really did, but she strayed. Then God’s justice took her from me.”
Jenny stopped crying and looked back over her shoulder at her father, who only stared straight ahead, his eyes glassy and vacant. “Justice? You’re a monster!”
“Justice,” he whispered.
She pushed herself from his lap, hitting the floor hard, then sprang to her feet and ran for the stairs and up to her room. The door crashed behind her, echoing throughout the house. There was no lock on the door or she would have engaged it, but she listened for his footsteps crashing in pursuit and heard nothing.
Wrapping herself up in her blankets, she burrowed deep and tried her best to ignore the pain that was burning up her backside. His words of justice and wayward sheep wormed their way into her brain and she replayed those words repeatedly until sleep overwhelmed her.
She awoke at some point during the night with the heat of her cocoon threatening to smother her. Pulling back the blankets, she performed a visual sweep of her room, half expecting her father to be standing there, silhouetted in the glow of the moonlight pouring through her window. The room was empty, save for her old stuffed unicorn, Sir Kicksalot, sitting in her reading chair in the opposite corner. The red light of her digital alarm clock shone out from her nightstand, informing her in all its blazing glory that it was 1:47 a.m.
It also informed her of something else. Bathed in the clock’s light was a piece of paper, marked with the spidery cursive of her father’s writing and lying on the corner of her nightstand. He had come in at some point while she slept. Normally she wouldn’t have thought anything of that, but now it made her skin crawl, and she could feel his hand once again on her bottom, thick and heavy like a slab of beef.
She clicked on her nightlight and grabbed the note gently by its corner, as if it might reach out to bite at her. When it didn’t, she brought it to the edge of the mattress and read.
Sweetheart,
First, please accept this apology for my rash and unforgivable behavior this evening. I want so badly to protect you from the evils of this world that I go overboard in my duties as a father. You are like a shining beacon of light, full of beauty and sweet innocence. Sometimes I fear that darker powers will seek to prey upon your better nature. Forgive me, I beg of you.
Second, I judged your new friend rather harshly, and without first meeting him for myself to form a true and accurate impression. Please extend to him, if you wish, my sincerest invitation to join us for dinner this Friday evening, so that I might meet this fine young man that has gained my lovely daughter’s affections.
All My Love,
Daddy
Jenny dropped her head down on her pillow in a whirlwind of tumult and reached over to flick off the light. An invitation for dinner, after everything that had just transpired. It was unexpected. She tried to envision it. Kai, and her father, sitting on opposite ends of the dining table. Under her own roof! The thought both terrified and exhilarated her.
The anger and fear she felt toward her daddy melted away and she fell asleep to practiced conversations in her head.
Kai, would you please join us for . . .
Kai, what do you think about . . .
Kai . . . Kai . . .
17
Kai walked through the front door whistling, feeling especially uplifted. The old woman usually had knack for souring his mood, but today she had provided him something that set everything right. A sacrifice. What was a worthless little dog’s life compared to such a euphoric feeling? It was great trade-off.
“What’s got my mysterious nephew in such a fine mood this afternoon?” Thomas was seated at the dining table in front of a coffee cup. “It would seem a life of charitable deeds suits you. I saw you hard at work in Ms. Garret’s yard on my way in. I’m proud of you. That’s a real nice thing you did for her.”
“You should tell her that, uncle Tommy. That woman barely lets me on her property. She looks at me like I’m the anti-Christ, or something.”
“That so?” Thomas took on a thoughtful look. “Why do you think that would be?”
“Who knows, she’s old and probably getting a bit touched. She thought that dog of hers was a real person, I think.”
Thomas’s eyebrows arched up. “Was? Did something happen to poor little Ralphie?”
“Is. I don’t know, whatever. I’ve got to go wash the grass out of my ears, Tommy.” Then he was gone down the hallway toward his bedroom.
Interesting, Thomas thought to himself. But his nephew’s life was full of interesting little twists and occurrences. Enough to cause a stir and twitch in the back of his mind, but nothing that ever set the alarm bells pealing. It wasn’t an emergency, it was just a curiosity. If it wasn’t for their past, for the dark and impossible things his eyes had witnessed, he probably wouldn’t have thought a thing of it. Then there was the matter of his sister’s phone call earlier that carried a cryptic message. Something that hadn’t set off the alarm, but had caused the twitch.
Can you come over tonight? You need to see something . . . disturbing. It’s about Kai.
That was all she would tell him on the phone, so he had tried his best to put it out of his mind. Don’t worry until you know there’s a reason to worry. That was his motto and he was good at living by it. Being pitted against a God in a life or death battle had a way of altering a person’s perspectives.
She came out now, marching down the hallway as if she were walking into battle. Her eyes were alight, and he didn’t miss the way she surveyed the room and checked the doors with her eyes before taking a seat. In her hand were several pieces of paper. She took a seat next to him and stared into his eyes, holding his gaze with an intensity that really piqued his interest. He was starting to worry.
“He’s in the shower?” Thomas nodded. She looked relieved. “Before you look at these, I want you to know that I’m not jumping to conclusions. It could be entirely a coincidence. I’m not losing my head. Do I seem like I’ve lost my head?”
“No, what? I didn’t say anything about . . .”
“Because it seems crazy, but we’ve been through crazy, haven’t we? Everyday people throw out that word, talking about how crazy their lives are, but they don’t know crazy like we do, do they?”
“I would agree with that . . .”
“It doesn’t mean anything. Not with all the wild stuff they have on television these days. It’s not cats and mice, or talking ducks. These days it’s all magic and kids with flaming heads. Flaming head . . . why did I think about that?”
“Sis,” he said, putting a hand on her arm, “why don’t you just show me what you asked me to look at?”
She bit her lip and pushed over the papers, but kept her hand pressed over the tops of them. “I’m sorry. My mind is racing, I’ll admit. Just, don’t freak out, OK?” Then she pulled her hand off and sat back, crossing her arms over her chest in the way that people do when they’re cold, or feeling threatened.
Thomas reached out to grab the papers and turned them over. He was expecting to see writing. Maybe something about a girl that Sophie wasn’t ready to hear yet. What he saw was a medley of colors. It took a moment for his eyes to interpret what they were seeing, but then it all came together, and he let out an involuntary gasp.
They were drawings, and they showed things that they shouldn’t be showing, as if they were his own personal nightmares laid out before him. There was a picture of the Bure on the island, stone foundation and walls, stone steps on each side, and steep thatched roof rising high up into the air. He flipped to the next one.
“Oh Jesus, Sophie.” The next page showed black people running, the background full of trees and flowers. Fiji, he knew. Vaqava island. The page wasn’t just fleeing villagers, it was a massacre of them. Body parts littered the ground and half the page was splashed in red. Reluctantly, he flipped to the third and last page. It was dominated by one central figure, a large man, his mouth stretched wide in a mortal scream. Shoved down the mouth, nearly to the elbow, was a black, muscular forearm.
“What the hell . . .”
“Thomas, there must be an explanation. I know what you’re thinking, I was thinking the same fucking thing, but it can’t be that. Can it?” Her voice sounded desperate.
He met her wide eyes, wondering why she even showed him this. Thinking that most people would have buried them in the trash and tried to forget them. Then he realized what she was doing. She wants to believe what she’s saying. She’s looking for me to tell her what she needs to hear. But he couldn’t lie.
“Sophie, I don’t see how this is possible, but it is what it is. I’m seeing the same thing you are. You’ve never spoken to him of what happened?”
“Of course not! He’d think I was crazy, and why would I put that on him?”
“No, I agree. I wouldn’t have expected you to, but I’m trying to make sense of this. Could he have read your book?”
She shook her head. “The possibility of that crossed my mind long before I started writing. I keep that book locked in a safe whenever it’s out of my sight.”
Next to the other thing, she thought, but didn’t say.
“I wish I could say that he had, but I don’t think it’s possible.”
“Then we have only one way to find out.” As if on cue, a door shut in the back hallway and Kai came strolling out, hair still damp and with fresh shorts and a blue shirt on. Thomas had shoved the papers under the table. He intended to bring it up with Kai anyway, but the reaction was instinctive.
Kai sat across from his mom and looked at them both. “You two look like you just found out I’m going to be a father.”
“What!?” They spoke in unison.
“I mean, I’m not, but you look like . . . never mind. What’s going on?”
With a quick look at Sophie, who remained silent, Thomas brought the papers up onto the table and pushed them toward Kai, who stared at them for a long moment before returning his attention back to them.
“You went into my room? Peeked around under my bed?” Kai’s eyes were black and accusing. Not for the first time, they reminded Sophie of gazing into a deep void of nothingness, one that her and Thomas had nearly been swallowed up by all those years ago.
“I was cleaning Kai, not snooping. You’re not in trouble or anything, but I want to know what inspired you to draw such things?”
Kai looked back and forth between the two of them, not looking at all like he feared being in trouble. In truth, he made them both feel like they might be the ones who were in trouble. “Dreams.”
“Dreams?” Thomas asked. “You dreamt of these things?”
“What else, Tommy? Yeah. I had some dreams. I drew the dreams. End of story. It’s not like you came across my plans to shoot up my school or some crazy shit. People dream about weird things all the time. Did it really necessitate an intervention?”
“Honey,” Sophie spoke up, “please don’t think of it that way. I’ll admit, the pictures frightened me a little bit. They’re a bit . . . violent. I showed Tommy because he was here, and I knew he’d talk me down, that’s all. You know I worry.”
Kai sat back in his chair with a slight smile on his face and shook his head at Sophie. She saw that as acceptance of her excuse and allowed herself to relax a little. Thomas wasn’t ready to let up, however.
“Do you have more? Do you remember more?”
Kai looked sideways at his uncle, keeping the smile on his face. “Honestly, I don’t really remember any of it. I don’t even feel like I remember what I drew, I just felt compelled to draw, so I did. That’s what came out. It was strange, like I was on autopilot and the markers were moving themselves. Maybe I’m a prodigy,” he laughed, not knowing, or not caring, that his laughter was not contagious.
“By the way, I saw that girl today. The pretty redhead from the church.” He looked at Tommy, his smile growing. “The hot redhead from church.”
Sophie looked at him with a tight frown. This was something she had always looked forward to with trepidation, but Kai had thus far remained blessedly independent where the female sex was involved. He liked girls, and they certainly liked his air of mystery, dark eyes, and natural charisma, but he had never taken to any
one in particular. This was a new development that created an uncomfortable stir in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t want to admit to herself just why that was.
“She’s a sweet girl, I’m sure,” said Thomas. “Will you be seeing more of her?”
“Oh, I think so. I think soon I’ll be meeting dear old daddy. She’s the type of girl who will want to make a proper introduction, and I think he’s the type of man that will want that too. He’s a preacher.” He smiled at Tommy, sharing some inside joke between men. “OK, you two enjoy your chat. I’m going out for a walk and I’ll probably be a while.” He pushed himself up from the table and exited through the rear sliding door and out through the backyard.
Thomas and Sophie shared a strained look between them, and Sophie could see that the same buried concerns were being unearthed in her brother’s head. However, he didn’t mention those concerns. It was a different and unexpected angle that he brought up.
“Did you watch the news this morning, sis?” His look was grave, so she knew he was leading toward something she likely didn’t want to hear.
“I didn’t. I hate the news, it’s always bad stuff being played for all it’s worth.”
“They found an old woman assaulted last night. Lives alone with her little dog over near the Covenant Methodist church. Apparently, somebody went in through her backdoor and beat her up pretty bad. She’s alive, but the little dog’s throat was cut. That’s the second time it’s happened in as many weeks.”
Sophie stared at her brother, her face stoic. “Is there a reason you’re bringing this up now?”
“That church is within easy walking distance from here. Do you know if Kai was home all night?”
“Wow, Thomas. You said that without batting an eye. Do you really think your nephew was out beating up old ladies and killing dogs?”
Thomas let out a deep sigh and tilted his head toward the ceiling, scratching at his beard. “I’m just letting the past mess with me. No, I’m sure it’s not him. I’m sorry I even mentioned it. I can’t see Kai doing something like that. He’s always helping out that old lady across the road, it wouldn’t even make sense.”
Darkly Rising Page 8
