After a few minutes, Waltz walked out to where Stephen sat.
“Can I help you?”
“I hope so.” Stephen looked around. He never got used to looking through the eyes of another. Color was off. Edges weren’t quite as crisp either, like looking through dingy glasses. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?”
“Well, sure. I was just about to head around back to get stuff out of storage. Care to walk with me?”
Stephen got up, and the two went down the steps and around the back of the house.
“I’m Waltz, by the way.”
“Yeah, I know. We’ve actually met,” Stephen replied
“Oh, sorry. I’m usually good at remembering faces. I must be getting older than I thought.” Waltz chuckled as they walked. “So, what can I help you with Mr.—?”
“I want to know more about the Mighty and the Fallen.”
Waltz’s face became filled with confusion. Stephen could sense the internal conflict inside Waltz but nothing more. He was unable to focus his gifts when in another’s mind this deep.
“What do you mean?” Waltz stopped and faced Stephen directly.
“Waltz, what is the extent of their powers? I feel like there’s more to the story that I’m not getting.” Stephen became excited and poured his thoughts out on Waltz. “I know we’ve talked about both and how the Fallen were once Mighty that fell. Their kids don’t get the same type of powers but are versed in deception. But are you sure? Look at this, what I’ve done. I’ve literally possessed another person. Is this normal?” Stephen raised his voice. “Can others do this? You’ve asked me to make a choice about something I don’t want to believe in. Because, if I do believe in it all—God, Satan, Mighty, Fallen, and a spiritual battle between them—then I must be one of the Fallen!”
Stephen looked at Waltz, waiting for an answer. Having gotten caught up in the moment, he had forgotten to tell Waltz who he was. Much emotion had flowed out of him, both from his mind and the body.
Waltz stood motionless for moment before his face turned to one of sadness.
“Stephen? Is that you, boy?” Waltz reached for Stephen’s face, touching it slightly before Stephen reached and grabbed the hand. It felt strange.
“Yes, Waltz. It’s me—or at least my mind inside this body. Sorry, but my emotions are much harder to control this way, and my thoughts can get away from me. This isn’t easy. I can only do it with the very weak-minded and for a short while.”
“What’s it like?” Waltz looked Stephen’s new body over.
“It’s kind of like a dream. The very first time I did it, I thought I was dreaming. It took me a day or so before I came to realize what had actually happened. I can feel both me and Freddy here. He’s not conscious. He won’t remember anything much. Anything he does retain will seem like a dream he’ll soon forget.”
“So, why did you do it?”
“I want you to see the fullness of what I am before you tell me whatever it is you want to tell me. I want you to know everything. This is it. Am I evil?”
“No, boy.” Waltz smiled. “You’re hurting, confused, in pain, and under attack. But you aren’t evil, no more than I am.” Waltz paused to look him over again. “I have to ask. Why Freddy? What did he do?”
“Oh! He’s done lots. But it wasn’t the past that caught my attention. I caught a glimpse of what he plans to do this evening, to take advantage of some young woman. He’s done it before.” Stephen realized that his own voice sounded a little weird. He could deal with the body and looks, but he always had the hardest time dealing with the different voice. It made his skin crawl, sending chills up his spine. “Brrr. Sorry, this voice is just creepy, but very much like the man. The things he’s done to women—horrible. He’ll never do them again though.” Stephen smiled.
“Stephen, what do you have in mind?”
“Before, I would have done something to make sure he was caught and probably damaged beyond repair. It would’ve made me feel powerful. I realize now that there is an addiction to my powers, something that draws me to use them a certain way. But that’s not my place. Is it, Waltz? That’s not a choice I should be making.”
Waltz smiled. “No, son, it’s not. I’m proud of you for realizing that. What are you going to do?”
“Well, I’ve got access to his thoughts. I’ve called and reported it all to the police. What he planned with that girl, he’s already done so many times. By the time Freddy returns home, still wondering where the last couple of hours went, police will be waiting for him. I gave them his license plate, auto info, driver’s license, and physical description.”
“And evidence?”
“Yeah, Waltz. I told them where to find the trophies Freddy here keeps, strands of hair, lingerie, ID’s. He keeps them in a box in the top of his closet. A couple of boxes actually. They’ve been trying to find this guy for a while, I imagine.”
Stephen glanced back at the car. “Well, I better go.”
“Wait, how do you get back to being you?”
“Easy, Waltz. I just let go, like waking up from a dream. I just do it. But I’ve got to get Freddy here away from the shelter first. I think we’ll go park in a no parking zone near his apartment. I’ll wake up at the hotel a little tired, but I’ll be fine.”
Stephen hadn’t noticed, but the rain had stopped.
“Stephen, meet me down at Kiener Plaza in a couple of hours. The clouds seem to be clearing out. We need to talk. It’s only fitting we talk there. Okay?”
“Sure, Waltz. I’ll be there.”
Stephen walked toward the Camaro. He passed the front of the house, where he saw Bernie standing on the front porch with the door open, looking at the car.
“That yours?”
Stephen waved. “Yeah, kind of. I’ll move it. See ya’ later, Uncle Bernie.” He smiled upon seeing the agitation in Bernie’s expression. Then, he drove off to do what he said and make sure Freddy got caught.
He parked Freddy in a no parking zone, near a couple police officers, then rolled down the window to yell.
“Hey, you lookin’ for me?”
Officers approached and asked him to exit the car. They checked his identification and immediately made him place his hands on the hood. Stephen released Freddy’s mind after officers placed him in cuffs.
Chapter 8
Stephen walked up and sat next to Waltz, who appeared to be watching a group of children splash each other.
“Want to play, old man?”
Adults and teenagers sat around in the grass. Birds chirped and picked at the crumbs on the ground. The sun reflected off the ripples in the pool and occasionally created a rainbow in the mist that came from the white water cascading down the stone steps where even more kids played. The Arch rose high above in the distance.
“Nah. I was just sitting here thinking about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you weren’t much older than them when I found you here. It looked different then. But, it was here, right in the middle of this park.”
Stephen tossed a small twig into the pool to watch it float away. “Yeah. Sometimes I remember better than others. But I do remember, thanks to you. I had run away, right to you.”
Waltz laughed. “Yeah, you did. Even then you were a fighter. After your mom died, you went to a boys’ home while they tried to find your relatives. You ran away and I found you. You were the saddest boy I had ever seen.”
“I was what—nine, ten?”
“You were nine.” Waltz put his arm around Stephen and squeezed him for a moment before letting go. “I used connections to get the boys home to let you stay with me. When they couldn’t find a close relative, I applied for custody. You’ve been my boy ever since.”
Stephen smiled. “And I eventually stopped being sad. The moment you found me, it felt right. Maybe because I wanted someone to care, and you seemed to be the only one to understand. My mom was gone. I never knew my dad. I had no other family—no grandparents, no uncles, aunts
, no one. But you seemed to understand how lonely and sad I was. I bet it must have been strange for you—some strange kid just runs up and hugs you.”
“Well,” Waltz replied, “it was not what I expected. But I think I needed you as much as you needed me.”
“You always wanted a son, right, Waltz?”
“Yeah, I did. I got one too.”
“Sort of, I guess.” Stephen paused. “I know it must not have been the same for you. I thought about calling you Dad a time or two. But I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. I didn’t want it to be weird or anything.”
Waltz turned toward Stephen. “Boy, I would have been perfectly okay with that.”
They exchanged smiles.
“Well, I guess now would be a good time to have that talk,” Waltz continued.
“Oh, about the building, with Chuck? Or about Freddy?”
“Neither, Stephen. There’s more for you to know about the Mighty and the Fallen.”
Stephen straightened.
“Really? I’m ready?”
“You’ve been ready. I’m the one that wasn’t ready. And there’s more you should know about you.”
Waltz turned sharply away from Stephen, looking in the direction of a large family nearby. Stephen grabbed his head. “Waltz! It hurts! What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. Someone’s trying to get in your head again. I can feel it. Dang it! I wish I had my old powers. Stay here. I’m going atop the rocks for a better view.”
Waltz hopped up and headed toward the waterfall where kids were playing. He ran near the top and began looking back and forth.
Stephen grabbed his head again. He tried to keep his eyes on Waltz but had a hard time concentrating. Trying to catch a mental image of his attacker made his head hurt worse. Still, he tried, but got nothing. Whoever it was had more skill than he did.
Get out of my head! Stephen wasn’t sure who might have heard that in their mind. He had tried to focus it toward the repeated attacks he felt. Regardless, it worked. The pain stopped immediately. He figured he had definitely gotten someone’s attention.
He looked around. Waltz stood at the top of the waterfall looking at him. Stephen signaled he was okay, and both began looking around again. He ventured in the opposite direction of Waltz, hoping to see something, anything, that might give him an indication of the attacker’s identity.
He heard screams and felt fear and terror emanating from the people around. He focused, but there was so much confusion. Fragments of images and raw emotion were all he picked up. He saw many people and images of red. Was it red hair, a red shirt?
Waltz, where are you? Stephen ran back toward the pool. He saw an old, frail body lying listless on the rocks. He ran up the falls and dropped next to the body. Blood poured from Waltz’s head. He looked around for help, but people just watched, looking on at him in terror.
“Waltz, stay with me, old man. There’s more to tell me. You have to take care of me.” He pulled Waltz up into his lap. The old man’s breathing labored as blood flowed down the falls and swirled in the pool below. People rushed to get their children out of the water. Stephen sobbed. “Don’t leave me alone. Not again. I can’t be alone.”
Stephen looked around again. “Help! Please! Someone?”
He looked down at Waltz, listening for a thought. There was no more breathing. He felt Waltz’s neck for a pulse—nothing. “WALTZ!”
There was a tug at Stephen’s shoulder. “Sir, sir. Let me have him. I’m a first responder. Let me help.”
Stephen looked up. Through the tears, he saw a man wearing rubber gloves holding some sort of kit stooped beside him. Stephen fell back, away from Waltz, listening for the man’s thoughts.
Okay. Head injury. No pulse.
Another man in an EMS uniform rushed up. “What do we have?”
Stephen backed further away. Listening to their thoughts, seeing Waltz lying there, he knew he was gone. Waltz’s thoughts had stopped. He sat there as water ran over his legs, watching the two men work from a distance trying to resuscitate him.
A third man arrived with a gurney. They loaded him onto it and began the trek to the ambulance they had parked close by. Stephen continued watching in disbelief. He listened to the sirens as they drove away. It wasn’t long before the sirens stopped.
People still looked on in terror. Stephen sat stunned.
“Sir, are you okay?”
A blanket fell around Stephen’s shoulders. He looked around to see an officer trying to assist him to his feet.
“Let’s get you out of this water, okay?”
Shocked and confused, all Stephen could manage was a nod.
“I’m sorry, but I have to ask you what happened.”
How could he explain what happened? Stephen couldn’t be completely honest with the man. He looked at the name tag, Nokes. He searched Officer Nokes’s mind. Decent man. Wife and two daughters. Hard worker. Cares about people.
“We were just hanging, you know. Talking. He raised me. He’s like my dad. I got a headache and went that way to get out of the sun. He came up here, to the top of the cascade. He’s a people person, loves watching people and being around them. The next thing I knew, people were screaming. Then, I saw him. I ran. But I was too late.”
“Was anyone near him?” Nokes jotted down some notes on a pad.
“There were kids playing up here. Parents sat nearby. But, no. No one was around when I got there.”
“What’s his name?”
“Walter. He goes by Waltz—he liked to dance when I was younger. He taught me to waltz right here in this park. But, sorry . . . his name is Walter Stockton.”
“That was Mr. Stockton?” Officer Nokes looked toward the waterfall.
Stephen focused on Officer Nokes. The man’s demeanor changed. His shoulders slumped, his face appeared much sadder.
“You know him?”
“Yeah. I mean I’ve talked to him before. He comes down to help the homeless. He used to spend most of the tolerable nights in an alley a few blocks from here. He hasn’t been there lately though. I stopped to check on him a couple of months ago. He wasn’t there.”
Officer Nokes looked back to Stephen. “You must be Stephen?”
“Yeah, that’s me. He moved back to the shelter when I came back to town. I didn’t realize he would stay on the street when I left.”
“Hey, hey!” Officer Nokes looked directly at Stephen. “None of this is your fault. He didn’t have to stay there. He’s a stubborn man. A very good man, but stubborn. You can’t get down on yourself now.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Stephen wiped a tear from his cheek. They continued to fall.
“Look, I need to talk to some more people and get with my partner over there. I’ll be back in a bit, okay? I’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be here.”
Nokes walked away. As he and his partner took statements from bystanders, Stephen listened in on the people’s thoughts, searching for what had happened. He heard all sorts of explanations. The accounts told were all over the place. Many said Waltz had simply slipped. One man said he might have been pushed. Stephen listened to his thoughts and realized that man hadn’t seen anything at all. Then, he heard a thought in a child’s mind. He looked around and saw a young girl talking to an officer. He wasn’t close enough to hear her words. So, he listened to her thoughts more closely.
He grabbed his head. It was like he was hurt. Then he just fell. And he was talking to himself. “Get out! I won’t let you hurt him.” That’s what he said.
The officer dismissed the kid’s words as the result of an overactive imagination. After all, none of the adults remembered seeing or hearing any of that. But the children had been the ones closest to him.
Stephen realized that Waltz had been protecting him. Indeed, there had been a war raging all around him. He fought back emotions.
Finding another child who had been near, Stephen searched his mind too. He saw the same images: Wa
ltz grabbing his head and talking to himself. This kid wasn’t close enough to hear though. Then, Waltz fell. The child saw the blood splatter. Both of them saw it, not sure what to make of it.
“Poor kids.” Stephen went back into their minds, isolating those memories. He wasn’t sure how he knew what to do. Somehow it just seemed right, as though he had done it many times before. Like picking apples from a tree, he pulled at the most gruesome parts of the memory and locked them away in their minds where the memories would stay forgotten.
They’ll remember what happened, but without the horror. Besides, it might be safer if they aren’t able to recount the memory in detail to others.
The tears stopped flowing. He knew what had happened. Waltz had been attacked. And Stephen was the only one who could have done anything about it. He hadn’t a clue where to begin. When help was needed, Waltz had always been there for him. Now, he feared Waltz had been taken from him. The sensible thing to do would be to call Uncle Bernie and see what he knew. Nothing about what happened was sensible though.
He reached into his pocket. Without thought, he called the first number on his mind. The phone began to ring. A familiar tone rang nearby. He looked around as a gentle voice answered from the other end.
“Hey, babe! Where are you?”
He heard her, and not just through the phone. Patty was there. He saw her standing on the sidewalk, looking toward where the police tape now hung in place.
Stephen called out. “Patty!” He waved to her. Upon seeing him, she went to him.
“Stephen? What’s wrong?” Patty looked around. “Where’s Waltz?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Oh, I was supposed to meet Waltz down here. I have some papers for him. Something he and Vincent were working on. Have you seen him?” Patty placed her hand on Stephen’s arm. “Babe, you’re worrying me. Where’s Waltz?”
“Something happened. I can’t fully explain it. But he was hurt bad. Patty, he didn’t make it.” Stephen wrapped his arms around Patty, holding tight to her. “What will I do without him?”
Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet Page 10
