by Jamie Ott
They were so dark that, if not for the whites of their eyes, he wouldn’t have been able to see their large irises, as black as their shiny skin, staring down at him. And if not for the green of the leaves against the charcoal gray sky, their shapes would have been impossible to distinguish.
Little gleaming fangs poked out of their thin lipped mouths.
Normally, the bat babies lived in the red lands.
“What are you doing here?”
They didn’t answer.
Although they were relatively harmless, they were still on the sides of his enemies. He couldn’t let them go and risk their telling others his location.
With that thought, he pulled his backpack off and said, “Get in.” When they wouldn’t, he bound them with his magic and stuffed them inside.
Then he went back to the patch and, with the mini shovel, got to digging up the strawberry plant. When he’d carefully collected all the roots, he pulled out a plastic bag, carefully put the plant in, and filled it with the dirt. Then he poured in some water and left the forest.
When he got back to the house, it was to find that his uncle was, thankfully, still out. He wasn’t ready to tell his uncle everything. Besides, he wouldn’t believe him anyway.
He stowed away to his room, where he pulled the two bat babies out of his bag and placed them on the closet floor.
“Stay quiet,” he said, and then closed the door.
Overnight, the bat babies were rather well behaved. In the morning, Jacko gave them pork sandwiches. They threw the bread to the floor, ate the meat and drank down the cups of water.
“Why are you here?”
They tried to respond but Jacko just didn’t understand the pigeon vibrato they uttered. He didn’t speak demon, and they didn’t speak English.
“Stay.”
He closed the door and went about his day.
Out in the forest, he immediately spotted a tree with a broken branch. Judging by the color of the exposed wood, it was damaged recently. Below the branch, the dirt was recently trampled.
“Whoa,” he said to himself, kneeling to get a closer look.
From end to end, the track was two feet width of tossed dirt.
He couldn’t quite make out the shape of the foot print, but it measured, maybe, six inches, he guessed. It kind of reminded him of a dog but way bigger.
His heart pounded and he grinned, thinking, Bally is going to be so proud of me.
He picked up his pace. Obviously, whatever the animal was, it was huge. If he could conquer it, maybe it was a sign that he was ready to face his demons.
Right now, in the red lands, a demon that was picked to battle Jacko was taking a sojourn, too. It was their custom that they should go into the forest and live by the land, proving their battle worthiness. The coincidence that he should be with Uncle Bally, doing similar things, didn’t escape him. In fact, it gave him hope that maybe, despite his fear, he was battle worthy, too.
The sky lightened by several shades. He looked at his watch. An hour passed and he still hadn’t found the animal.
He stopped a moment and took a sip of water.
A low groaning sound came from beyond a tree several yards to his right.
Jacko put the lid back on his water, stuffed it in his bag, and got his rifle to the ready.
He lightly walked to where the sound came from. Standing close to the tree, obscuring his body from full view, he looked through tall grass. Less than a hundred feet away, the biggest bear he’d ever seen was ripping out the belly of a pig.
Although he couldn’t see its face, the size and shape of its head and body was way too big for a brown or black bear. As this thought occurred to him, sweat broke out all over his face and neck. He should have known the moment he saw the size of the tracks.
Stepping backward slowly, his eyes never leaving the bear, he accidentally tripped on a large fallen branch. He accidentally squeezed the trigger; it shot up in the air.
Quickly, he jumped to his feet.
He locked eyes with the bear.
It roared and stood on its feet, and then charged him.
Jacko turned to run again, but in panic, tripped on the same log, slamming face first into the dirt.
He should have stayed on the ground and played dead, like Uncle Bally told him, but fear took over. He got on foot to run but wasn’t fast enough.
The grizzly bear leapt at him.
Jacko flung his arms up to his face.
A few seconds passed, but nothing happened.
He opened his eyes and saw the bear sitting by the tree with its tongue hanging out, looking at him, curiously.
Looking around, he realized that things seemed brighter than usual. Instead of the grey atmosphere, it was quite yellowish.
Jacko looked up at the sky and, seeing that it was blue, gasped.
Did he jump worlds again?
Jumping worlds in his sleep was originally how he got caught up in this god versus demons business. While asleep, he accidentally astral projected into the red lands.
A woman was humming. He also heard the sound of running water coming from the clearing where the bear was eating a kill, a moment ago.
The bear roared lightly, and nodded his head in the direction the sounds came from.
Jacko got the hint but was still wary.
Slowly, he walked just past the tree, eyes still watching the bear. When he was sure it wouldn’t attack, he chanced glancing ahead.
There was a woman sitting in the grass, watching a silvery river run.
“Hello?” he half said half asked. “Can you tell me where I am?”
The woman turned around. Jacko instantly recognized her face. She had long white blonde hair and the darkest brown eyes to contrast, like his sister, Sissy.
“Mother?”
She smiled.
“Is this real?”
“After everything, do you even have to ask that?”
His cheeks hitched back in a wide smile. He almost ran to hug her. But then he got scared as a realization sunk in: his mother had died and gone into the fountain of youth, where all souls return after death. Only the most powerful, like Lucem and a very few select humans, could go into the fountain without losing their mortal or immortal life. For most men, be he god, demon, angel, or human, once he got in the fountain, he could never go back to his physical body, except for in rebirth.
“Are we in the fountain?”
“Yes! Very good! I see you did pay attention to my stories.”
A look of panic must have shown on his face, for she said, “Don’t worry, you’re not dead.”
“Then, how am I here?”
“I asked a friend for a favor. She brought you here.”
He sighed and sat next to her.
“She must be a powerful friend. You swear I’m not dead?”
“You’ll return to your body when we’re done.”
“With what?”
“I need to talk to you, and I have to do it now because I don’t have much more time left, here, in the fountain.”
“Where are you going?”
“My time to be reborn is nearing.”
“How do you know when that’s about to happen?”
“It’s just a feeling one gets. Sort of like when people know their time is coming to end, well, sometimes people can tell when their time is about to begin.”
“Do you have to go?”
“No, but I want to.”
“Come back to Earth as yourself, or retire in heaven! Why do you have to be reborn? You won’t remember me. Essentially, you’ll be leaving your children behind.”
“I can’t, Jacko. The thing is I want to leave this life behind. I want to be reborn into a normal family, and live a normal life. Besides,” she sighed, “when the martyrs break their circles of life, then humanity is no longer saved.”
Jacko hadn’t a clue of what she meant. All he knew was that he was angry. How could she be so selfish?
“So why did you call me?” he asked, trying to keep his feelings from sounding in his voice.
“To give you something.”
She reached into the pocket of her white linen smock and pulled out a handful of figs.
“Food?” he asked sarcastically.
“They’re very special. I don’t want to tell you how for fear that you’ll use them at the wrong time. There aren’t very many of these left in the world, so it’s important you keep them as long as possible.”
He considered her a moment. It sounded strange but he knew not to question the gods, so he put them in his cargo pocket.
They sat in silence a few more moments.
“Why did you leave me behind, when you left home?”
“When I met John, the man you thought was your father, I was desperate. We needed a safe place and a new legal identity, and we needed it immediately. I didn’t know anyone else who could help me. The quickest way to get those things, I figured, was to get married, so I enchanted him. The thing with enchantments is they don’t last. Year by year, the spell wore off until he woke, one morning, and couldn’t remember who I was. You were too young to remember, but he threw me and Sissy out. I didn’t leave.”
“Why did he allow me to stay?”
“Because I paid him. I could’ve re enchanted him, but I’d already taken five years of his life. He may have been a bad man, but I had no right taking his will.”
“And your suicide?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I swear, to you, that I didn’t kill myself. Someone poisoned my tea; they mixed the hemlock root into my canister. I remember pain, and then I was here.”
He watched the water a moment, thinking about her words.
“Am I gonna die in this battle?”
“Perhaps; it has happened before.”
“What do you mean by that?”
But he didn’t get his answer because the scene faded.
His eyes opened once more. He was lying facedown, breathing in the dirt.
He sat up, coughed and spat, and rubbed the granules off his face.
The bear had gone.
“I just want things to go back to the way they were,” he said aloud, hoping someone would grant his wish.
Of course, nothing happened.
He made his way back down the trail and through the forest.
At the house, he found his Uncle Bally standing in the kitchen and eating a sandwich.
“Why don’t we take the rest of the day off, son,” he said around a mouthful. “I’d like to go to the mall before it completely levels. Maybe we can get you some clothes. Winter is coming, after all.”
Right before he walked out of the room, he said, “Tonight, I want you to set traps all around. I think we got mice.”
Jacko huffed and rolled his eyes. Then he grabbed a couple slices of pork and two cups of water. From down the hall, he heard grunting noises coming from his room.
He walked in and closed the door.
The bats were making a ton of bumping noises and talking loudly.
He opened the closet door to find them playing with the spare chess set that was in the closet.
Jacko set down the food and water.
“Be quiet! I don’t want Uncle Bally to think we have rats!”
Without saying anything, they pounced on the food and each grabbed a cup of water, and continued playing as if he wasn’t even there.
The bat babies had really short arms and legs; too short to move the pieces. So they took turns flying the chess pieces to their places on the board, and then returning to their spot on the floor, making thump noises each time they landed.
Jacko looked around for something they could use as a mat to soften their landing. He grabbed the large blanket on the shelf of the closet.
“Hey, move! I want to put this under you so my Uncle doesn’t hear you.”
They just kept playing.
As he watched their game a moment, he started to take in the subtle differences in their appearance. This was hard to see before because he couldn’t get past their shiny leathery look. However, the one playing the black chess pieces was way chubbier than the one playing the white. In fact, the one playing the black had an air about him that made him seem more like a follower type, while the one playing the white was more of a leader.
“Okay, so this what I’m going to call you: Larry,” he said pointing to the skinnier bat, “and Joe,” he pointed to the chubbier one.
But they still weren’t paying attention.
Joe took Larry’s rook with his pawn, making him angry. Now, he was peeling bits of pig fat, Larry hurled at him, off his face.
“Hey!” he said more forcefully. “Joe,” he poked him in the gut. “Larry,” he poked the thinner one, too.
“Joe, Larry, Larry, Joe, Joe, Larry, Larry Joe,” they chanted together.
“Jacko!” came his uncle’s voice through the door.
They all got silent.
“Coming!”
“You be good, and I’ll let you out for exercise later. If I come back and you’re gone, I’ll find you and it won’t be good. Put this blanket under you. I know you understand me, so just do it.”
He closed the door, and then ran down the hall.
Skill of the Past
Chapter 5
Jacko hadn’t left Uncle Bally’s since after he’d dined with the gods. There, he was safe from the dangers of war, and there, he was in control of his life. Nothing bad could happen in the fortress of his uncle’s, but as they left his property, fear perspired out of him.
He drove them into town in his old blue pickup. Along the way, he saw that not a thing had changed, except for the plant life. Every tree they past appeared shriveled and had lost nearly all its leaves. The fields of strawberries and spinach turned to a smelly slime that coated the soil. Structures that still stood had a sad and ghostly look about them.
The planet was dying, and he needed to war with the gods to stop it. As if being on the ledge of a burning building, he could leap into the hands of his pitchforked enemies, or he could return to his dying asylum; either way, it felt like he was destined to go down.
They turned into the parking lot of the mall. As before, half of it lay in a huge pile. Dangling from the second floor was part of an escalator that looked as though it would smash down with the slightest quake.
Suddenly, Jacko didn’t feel so good about going in. He didn’t want either of them getting hurt.
Uncle Bally didn’t seem fazed at all. He continued through the parking lot to the north end where Macy’s was.
“You don’t think really think we should go in there, do you?”
“I admit it’s not safe, but we need things,” he said, parking up on the sidewalk, in front of the glass doors. “We’ll just be real quick about it.”
He stepped out of the truck, walked up and held open the glass door for Jacko.
LEDs in the floor gave off faint light, but the store was still very dark. Stuff littered the floor and many perfumes heavily fragranced the air. For a brief moment, Jacko thought he smelled the scent of dryer sheets, like in a laundry mat, and bacon and toast.
“Uncle Bally,” he whispered, “what if someone’s living here?”
He pulled his hand gun and a small flashlight from his hip and said, “Stay close.”
They looked left and right, down the aisle that led in a circle around the store.
A few steps in and down the right path, a cash register appeared on the left side.
“Grab a couple bags and start filling them. I’ll keep watch.”
Jacko did as he said. He ducked behind the register and pulled a package of the largest bags, shook one out, and then they proceeded, slowly.
They passed a section of purses and bags, followed by women’s shoes. When they reached the men’s section, they took a moment for Jacko to look through. Uncle Bally’s shoes were too big.
A few minutes later, Jacko came out of the ba
ck with a pair of boots, and then they moved along until they got to the men’s clothing section. He’d also been wearing Uncle Bally’s clothes since he got there; it was a relief to get some jeans that didn’t have to be tied up with rope.
By the time they reached the bath section, Uncle Bally had put away his hand gun and was helping Jacko clear out as many towels and cloths as they could.
He almost leapt for joy at the sight of the bed section. Together, they heaved a queen sized mattress and box springs out and into the back of the truck.
In the camping section, Jacko gathered as many sleeping bags as he could when, from behind, he heard a loud crunch-like noise.
Swiftly, he turned.
His uncle was lying on the ground. Standing before him, with a .22 rifle, was a dark haired man with an overgrown beard.
“What did you do that for? We just need some supplies and we’ll go.”
“This is our mall,” said the vagrant. “You’ll go now, or else.”
He’d never been much of a fighter, but since he’d been to the fig orchard and had his blessing, he had senses of what to do in dangerous situations. Now that he understood about the fountain of youth, it made sense that he could’ve been drawing on lessons learned in a past life. So when something moved behind him, rather than feel fear as most would, he felt relief.
He turned his head just slightly. Standing behind him was a woman with unkempt hair. She had a baseball bat in her hand.
Fast, Jacko yanked the bat away, and then swung the handle around, at the barrel of the gun. Right as the handle hit it, he leapt right.
Startled by his actions, the man, accidentally, fired the weapon. The bullet missed Jacko’s side by inches.
Without hesitation, he swung the bat, whacking the man on his temple. He fell to the ground. Jacko picked up the gun and aimed it at him.
Behind him came a moaning sound.
“Uncle Bally, are you okay?” he asked, without turning his eyes away from the fallen man.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
While holding his head, the man rolled into a sitting position. His eyes went from squinted with pain to wide and quivering.
“You made me kill her!” he shouted.
Foolishly, Jacko turned his head to see the woman. As he did this, the man charged him.
He pulled the trigger, shooting the man in the heart.
The man’s eyes bugged out as the force of the bullet pushed his midriff back, and then he dropped to the ground.
For a moment, Jacko was motionless, watching the expression that lingered on the dead man’s face.
