by P. Mattern
Looking down at the table she said,”Well was that the worst of it or do you have anything else to add?”
Carey’s smile was cagey and somewhat ironic.
“Well one more thing I guess-Loki can shift to human form on occasion. He already did it once in my room and it totally freaked me out. That’s why…”
Surprise and recognition registered in Kimbra’s blue eyes,”Oh THAT’S WHY you’ve been making him leave when we make out! I was wondering about that. And probably why he was looking for you in the first place. Remember I TOLD you I’d seen him wandering around for days before you arrived, even before I took that trip to my grams!”
Both of them chose at that moment to look toward the glassed in front of the coffee shop. As usual, Loki was staring through the glass at them and seemed to give a short bark of recognition as they favored him with their attention.
“I think he wants us to hurry.” Kimbra commented. Carey stood up and held her jacket for her, then shrugged his own jacket on, throwing their empty paper drink cups into the garbage container as they passed.
Once outside, Carey and Kimbra knelt to pet Loki, as Kimbra whispered to the dog, ”Hey Carey told me about you. I know that you found him for a reason, and I thank you for that.”
Loki gave a sigh and began to lick both of them happily, before he gave a short bark as if to say, ”Let’s blow this joint!”
Days passed into weeks in the small town. Carey continued to do research on finding a ‘cure’ for his condition, but even the older books in the town library that had to do with folklore and mythical creatures was of little help. He began to expand his search to include witchcraft and spellbooks, hoping to find one that reversed curses, for surely he had been cursed with his present condition. And the changes were still ongoing-he could feel them viscerally.
There had to be something, somewhere, that would enable him to return to his original fully human state he reasoned. He just had to be persistent enough to find it.
Kimbra was supportive, also delving into the strange, forgotten ‘paranormal’ section of the library. Both of them also heavily researched the internet. Residents of the small town were not interested in much aside from their work, their farms and the local gossip. Carey had become friendly with his boss at the gas station and was generally seen in a good light by the town’s population. Carey and Kimbra attended a charity dance, bringing Aunt Ida along and going in a group with Channing, her love interest Tyler and his sister Elle, whose real name was ‘Ellen’ but she had changed it to sound less small town and more glamorous.
Carey had also continued to attend church with Kimbra and her family, and continued to be ignored by the Pastor, which Kimbra and Channing thought hysterically amusing. The Pastor invariably found an excuse not to shake hands with Carey, and barely acknowledged him even if he were standing directly in front of the Pastor. His behavior gave Carey an uneasy feeling though. Carey had noticed the man looking at him strangely and speculatively during the services when the choir was singing, and it made him uncomfortable. Sometimes he wondered if the Pastor had somehow picked up on his condition, and had gotten some discernment that Carey was not quite human.
Carey wouldn’t have to wonder much longer.
He was working at the gas station one Wednesday when a black sedan pulled up to the gas pump. Carey had been unloading some boxes of store goods inside and saw Paster Levi getting out of the driver’s side of the sedan through the glassed in storefront. Carey hurried to get behind the counter, assuming the Pastor wanted some gas.
The Pastor entered, his beady eyes passing over Carey in an almost disinterested way as he looked around the minimart part of the gas station.
“Hello, Carey,” he said ,nodding afterward as was the local affectation.”How’s it going?”
Carey felt a sense of unease and didn’t believe for a minute that the Pastor had come in for small talk. He answered in an even tone, ”Fairly well, thank you. Is there anything that I can help you with today?”
It was the usual one liner that Carey was used to offering to any customer of the gas station. But the longer the Pastor stood in front of him, the more Carey sensed that the Pastor’s visit had nothing to do with gas or sundries. And his instincts were correct.
“Look here, Carey,” the Pastor said, removing his glasses and wiping them with a man’s dress handkerchief that he had withdrawn from his suit coat pocket.” I appreciate the effort that you’ve put into trying to fit in here. You seem like an okay sort of fellow, judging by your behavior. Your Aunt Ida, although she has a reputation for being an eccentric, is really a sweet old lady. And you’ve managed to ingratiate yourself with the Binghams in the short time you’ve been here. In fact it’s rumored that you’ve been dating his oldest daughter.”
Replacing his glasses, the Pastor came forward until he was flush with the counter separating him from Carey, and leaned forward until he was barely inches from Carey’s face.
“But you and I know that you’re hiding a little secret, don’t we?”
Carey again felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He had stopped breathing. He was struggling not to allow any emotional reaction to show in his face but was almost certain his eyes must look like saucers to the older man. Though many responses crossed his mind in rapid fire succession(“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”, “A secret? What secret?”,and the blatant lie” I’m not hiding anything.”), Carey couldn’t get his vocal chords working to respond to the Pastor’s rhetorical question. It was as though they’d been fused together.
After a few seconds, the Pastor chuckled.
“I can see the cat’s got your tongue, Carey. So I’m going to make this easy for you. I’m a spiritual man who prides himself on his fine sense of spiritual discernment, and spiritually speaking, well, you REEK! I haven’t spent enough time around you to discern why-I can’t tell if you are demonically possessed, or you’re a Satanist, or what-but there is definitely something ‘off’ about you. You offend ALL my sensibilities. Every time you enter the sanctuary alarm bells go off in my head so loudly that I can barely think.
Now I’m going to ask you man to man-or man to…whatever you are. Do you know what’s wrong with you Carey? Do you even have a clue?”
Once again Carey grappled for words. He didn’t feel like lying; lying was something that he’d never been good at anyway and he wasn’t about to start, especially for the dubious benefit of some hick church official. But the main reason he didn’t feel like baring his soul to the Pastor was because he had his OWN discernment regarding the Pastor and his motivations. Carey knew that the Pastor’s ‘concern’ was feigned, that the Pastor had his own agenda, and-most importantly-Pastor Levi was not to be trusted.
Leaning forward onto the counter, his own eyes engaged with the Pastor’s small deepset eyes, he began speaking in an even tone.
“You forgot what you came in here for. But you’re very hungry for something sweet. Buy a candy bar and leave.”
The Pastor blinked rapidly a few times, appearing confused. Slowly he bent down so that he could get a better look at the multiple rows of prepackaged sweets in front of the counter and selected one in a brown wrapper, placing it on the counter after fumbling in his coat pocket for two one dollar bills.
“Snickers.” he said, regarding Carey pleasantly, as if it was the first time they’d spoken all day.”I don’t need the calories but it’s been my favorite since I was a kid.”
Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, Carey smiled innocuously at the chubby man and handed him his change. The Pastor stood in front of the counter as if he were trying to remember something, then abruptly said ”Well thanks-and have a nice day.”
Watching the Pastor walk out to his sedan, Carey’s nerves finally gave way and he found that his hands were trembling slightly. Overall he was elated that he’d been able to exercise his hypnotic abilities in the tense situation. Additionally, he was weak with relief knowing that if Kimbra had turned out to
be immune to mesmerization, the possibility existed that the Pastor could also have possibly been immune also.
Thank God he hadn’t been.
Carey’s mind traveled back to the night Loki had assumed a human form and had tried to warn him about something. Carey was convinced at that moment that Loki had been talking about some of the parishioners at Kimbra’s church.
It was obvious that he was being discussed by some of the ‘concerned citizens’ of the town behind closed doors, at least by the members of that particular church, in spite of all he’d done to blend in, fit in and not stand out in any way. And he knew that it was just a matter of time before the Pastor was reminded of his original mission and returned to the gas station again. In some ways he kicked himself for cutting off the conversation before the Pastor revealed more information. What had he really come to say?
Carey surmised that Pastor Levi probably paid him a visit to suggest that he leave town. That was the way the conversation had been going at any rate.
He desperately needed to talk to Kimbra, but realized that he needed to calm down and finish the two scant hours left on his shift before he could talk to her and tell her what had transpired.
Those two hours would be the longest two hours of his life.
At the same time that Carey was dealing with Pastor Levi’s unexpected visit, Kimbra was at home reading Phillip Roth up in her room when she heard her father calling her.
“Kimbra-would you please come to my study?” was what he had called up the stairs, and the way he said it could mean almost anything. Dr. Bingham used to call her to his study when she got a ‘B’ instead of and ‘A’ in one of her classes when she’d been a public school student. He also had questioned her in the past about some of the kids that she was hanging out with. Most of the time the results of their father/daughter discussions were productive. She knew that her father loved her and trusted her, and she wasn’t in school anymore, so she was more than a little curious to be summoned into his study for a discussion.
Her father was sitting behind his mahogany desk lighting up a pipe full of tobacco as she entered the room, with its heavy Victorian antique furniture and its floor- to- ceiling shelves full of leather bound books. Many were medical books, some were ancient medical books from other centuries. There were also a few first editions of classics. The room smelled of leather and cherry wood pipe smoke, and was badly in need of dusting, since Kimbra and Channing’s mother had passed. Her mother was the one that had devoted herself to taking care of the big drafty Victorian house.
Just seeing the preponderance of dusty ,unpolished surfaces made Kimbra feel sad.
Her father ascertained that his pipe was indeed lit, sucked in a lungful of smoke and expelled it with his eyes closed, as if he were savoring the flavor. Then he turned to face Kimbra.
“I know it hasn’t been easy for you girls without your mother.” He said, a surprising undercurrent of nervousness in his voice. Kimbra immediately picked up on it and thought that it was odd-her father usually spoke with the supreme confidence and authority of one of the town’s premier citizens. But he continued.
“No, I’m sure that it hasn’t been easy. And I do appreciate the sacrifices you’ve made, Kimbra-staying back here instead of going away to college, providing stability for Channing-all of it was needed, and it shows character that you made those decisions on your own.
All in all I couldn’t be prouder of you. But Channing will be a Senior next year, and it’s time for you to think about resuming your life-the life you would be living if your mother hadn’t passed so suddenly.
He paused for a few seconds, sucking on his pipe, which featured an ornately carved bowl with the face of a ruggedly handsome bearded being-maybe God or maybe a personified depiction of the North Wind, in a dark wood. The smoke wafting through the room smelled of rose, and cherry and vanilla. Kimbra found it to be a comforting smell, one that recalled the comfort and security of her childhood.
Her father resumed speaking.
“I assume that you’ll be making contact with some of the excellent Universities that sent you acceptance packets?”
Kimbra hesitated before answering. Then said, ”I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately .I would really rather take classes online instead of going away….Channing needs me, and I need her too. I know that you would be there for her, but father it’s not the same. And she’s so young. Did you know that she still cries about Mama almost every night?”
Kimbra could see the weary,sadness in her fathers eyes. He had aged noticeably since her mother’s death.
“No I didn’t. And I’m not saying your plans are ill- considered. But there is another issue that has come up that makes me think that your taking some time away from Cassis might be a good idea.”
Kimbra’s heart began to beat more rapidly. She knew that her father was talking about Carey, even as ‘under the radar’ as she’d tried to be about their relationship, he must have noticed that they were seeing quite a bit of each other anyway. She decided to wait and listen to whatever he had to say.
And of course- it WAS about Carey.
“This Floyd boy you’ve been seeing,” her father continued.”I’m not sure that he’s…an appropriate choice for you. His Aunt is the town crackpot, although she’s harmless enough. And frankly he seems like a drifter, Kimbra. I really don’t approve of the amount of time you’ve been spending with him.”
Kimbra considered her options for a reply. She didn’t want to come off too defensively. She certainly didn’t want to cause a scene by reacting strongly and making her father think she was too immature to make a decision on her own. On the other hand she was over 18 and legally an adult. It really was no longer his place to make her decisions for her.
“Carey is a good person,” she began.”I’m sorry you haven’t had a chance to get to know him better or you wouldn’t have any qualms about him. He takes care of his aunt and works and studies-sort of on his own, he’s always at the library…he’s interesting and intelligent and he respects me.”
‘There’ she thought to herself, ’I stated a few of my own observations without really trying to argue’. Kimbra was pleased with her words, and waited patiently for her father to volley back a response of his own. She couldn’t have prepared herself for what came next however.
Her father seemed to freeze for a moment, pipe in mouth, regarding her speculatively, his eyelids at half mast. When he leaned forward, his still smoking pipe in his right hand, she noticed with a sense of growing horror that the tendons on his neck were sticking out, and his face seemed mottled with the colors of silent rage. She had only ever seen her father angry once-during a political meeting he had hosted, and never, never had he been angry at her.
“Listen here, daughter,” he hissed, in a voice that was low but nonetheless terrible.”You are never to see this Carey Floyd again. Pastor Levi assures me that there is something very wrong with that boy. The Church Board is of a mind to run him out of town! He’s been the subject of several recent meetings. The public tide is not in his favor-Elmo Hansen is about to fire him from his job-people are staying away from his station in droves since he hired this Carey person.”
Kimbra wanted to retort that the townspeople had ALWAYS stayed away in droves from Hansen’s gas station and convenience store-but because of the outrageous prices that he charged, not because of the employees he hired. Inwardly she felt as if her conversation with her father had descended into a downward spiral that was irretrievable-that whatever she said at that point would be the wrong thing to say. She could feel her heart beating in her ears, and the adrenaline of anger coursing through her veins. Carey had done nothing to deserve this kind of small minded scrutiny, the kind of self- satisfied sadism that only the suspicious and close-minded residents of a backwater town would mete out.
Her heart sank as she realized that they ,in reality, HAD a point about Carey being different. Was it possible that the locals had somehow picked up on Carey’s comprom
ised humanity, even as they had no way of knowing the extent of his transformation? They saw only someone that didn’t fit in, and hadn’t gotten to know him enough to know what a good person he truly was. She knew it would devastate Carey to be let go from his job-he had worked really hard at doing the best he could ,probably partly to make her proud of him. She knew instinctively that he would do anything for her, and suddenly she realized that she would also do anything for him…because she loved him.
But at that moment her father had stopped speaking, and she needed to get away from him and find Carey-if only to warn him.
Her gaze was steady as she looked directly in the doctor’s eyes.
“Is that all, father?” she asked.
Her father, having calmed himself somewhat, cleared his throat.
“Yes, daughter. If you want I can get a message to your friend Carey not to bother coming around anymore.”
Kimbra stood up, her quiet dignity causing her to appear much taller than her 5’3”. Although her manner was calm she spoke with resolution and authority.
“No ,father. I will tell him myself, face-to-face. He has never disrespected me, and he deserves at least that much respect.”
Not waiting for his response, or approval, she turned stiffly and exited her father’s study. In the foyer, she paused only to slip on a light jacket, and headed out toward the gas station.
Several blocks away, Carey was surprised to see Kimbra crossing the street toward the gas station just as he was finishing up restocking the vertical rows of cigarettes behind the counter. He hurriedly put the last few packs in their appointed places, nodded to the teenager who was assigned to the next shift, and stepped out into the street just before she stepped up on the curb.
He started to say something like “Hello beautiful!” but his words died in his throat when he saw her expression, an expression that he had never seen on her lovely visage.
